An Unlikely Pair, Again
by AnneM.Oliver
Summary: Sequel/An Unlikely Pair/They were married for two weeks & were to spend the weekend at their parent's. Crazy, to date one day, & then marry the next, since they were such an unlikely pair. He was rich & pureblood. She, Muggle-born. It was love, of course.
1. Chapter 1

*All Characters belong to JK Rowling, and I make no money from the writing or publishing of this story.

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**An Unlikely Pair, Again**

**By**

**Anne M. Oliver**

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Summary: (Sequel to **An Unlikely Pair**) Never would there be a more unlikely pair than Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. They met at a wedding, married the next day, and then two weeks later, they were ready to start their married life. Scheduled to spend the weekend at their in-laws, both were apprehensive.

She was anxious because his parents were former Death Eaters, and purebloods. Would they ever accept her? Would they ever feel she was good enough for their son? Could she ever forgive them for the things they did during the war?

He was slightly worried because her parents were Muggles. They were hopelessly middle class, and they didn't have house elves, he was worried that their house might only have one bathroom, heaven forbid.

It was crazy to marry so quickly, and it was true they were an unlikely pair. He was a git, she wasn't, he was a snob, she was pretensions, he was rich, and she middle-class, but there was one thing that they both were and it was this: They were in love.

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**Chapter 1 – **

She waited for her husband nervously. Where was he? He said he would meet her at four pm sharp, and here it was already 4:10, and no husband. Her parents would begin to worry if they were late. Already married for two weeks and he was already unreliable. Of course, maybe he was always unreliable. It's not as if she would know.

Hermione Granger checked her bag once more. She had packed last night, unpacked today, and repacked this afternoon. She wasn't nervous about going to her folk's house. She could handle that. She was nervous about going to his folk's house. They were spending tonight and most of tomorrow with her parents, and then tomorrow night and the next day at his parents, ending with an evening dinner at the Burrow, as was tradition.

They had been married for two weeks. They had also only been together for two weeks. Well, not even two weeks, really. They started dating a week ago last Saturday, and then they married on that Sunday. Crazy, of course. Especially with the fact that they were such an unlikely pair. He was pureblood, she was Muggle-born. He was rich, she was hopelessly middle class. He was a git, she was not. She laughed when she thought of that last one.

Strange how she could love someone so much, when she really didn't even know him. They would spend this weekend getting to know each other, and getting to know each other's parents. They went on a honeymoon the week after they wed. Then they spent all day the next Monday and Tuesday after their honeymoon moving all of his things into her small house. She would have happily moved to his flat, but he said he wanted to live in a house, with her. She thought that was sweet. As she looked around her house, full of all his ridiculous things, she was beginning to wonder.

Their taste couldn't be more different. Her style was what she would call "English cottage". She liked floral prints, plaids, worn furniture, puffy pillows, reds, beiges, and greens. He liked modern design. Steele and black. Ugly really, in her opinion. He liked modern art, but when she asked him what he liked about it, he would say, "Because it's expensive." She liked Mary Cassatt paintings, especially the ones that showed mothers and children. He said he thought they looked like someone who had their eyes shut painted them. How rude.

He liked to eat out every night. She liked to cook at home. He was a night person, who hardly ever went to bed before two am, even though he had to be at work at eight am. She was a morning person. She went to bed about nine pm, and woke up around six am. She ate breakfast every morning. He had coffee for breakfast. He had wine with each meal, she was a teetotaler. He liked to smoke expensive cigars, she was allergic to smoke.

She liked cats, he liked dogs. Enough said.

Yes, people would generally find out about these types of things during the normal courting period of a relationship. Their courting period consisted of twenty-four or so odd hours of eating cake, playing games, and running hill and dale around the Burrow. Still, Hermione didn't regret a thing about her courtship, her wedding, or her marriage. She wouldn't change a thing about any of it.

Well, she might change one thing. She might have made sure her husband knew how she hated to be late for anything. It caused her too much stress. Her stomach would tie up in knots just at the thought of being late somewhere.

She might as well call her folks and tell them that her stupid husband was late. Her stupid husband. She liked how that sounded. The husband part, not the stupid part. Her husband. She had a husband, and his name was Draco Malfoy, which made her Mrs. Draco Malfoy. She didn't like the way that sounded as much. She supposed she might be persuaded to be called 'Malfoy', but never, under any circumstances, would she allow someone to call her Mrs. _Draco_ Malfoy. She was Hermione Jean Granger Malfoy. She wasn't even going to use the hyphen. She was just going to add his name to hers. Maybe he would take her name as well, and would be called Draco Granger Malfoy. She laughed thinking of that. She would suggest that to him in front of his father, and watch the fun ensue!

She definitely wanted their children to have her name as their middle name. After all, her father had no sons, so she wanted the 'Granger' name to carry on somehow. She had yet to tell Draco this fact. She had yet to tell him anything really. He moved in on Wednesday, finished moving in on Thursday, here it was Friday, and he had been gone all day. There would be plenty of time to talk and get to know each other this weekend.

She had already warned her parents about him. That might be a bit extreme; 'warn' wasn't the right word. She had 'prepared' them for him. She told them he was a bit haughty, had grown up pampered, and his sense of humour was a required taste. She wondered if he had 'warned' his parents about her. Truth be known, she was more nervous about meeting them, than she was for him to meet her parents. Where was he, anyway? They were going to be so late!

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Draco looked at his watch. He was exactly ten minutes late, so he felt pretty good. To be ten minutes late was to be on time for him. He had to go into the office today to finish some paperwork, so he could take a couple more weeks off work. He needed more time off to get to know his new little wife, Hermione. He threw his head back and laughed. He had a wife, he had a wife, a wife, a wife, yes he had a wife! As he sang his new little theme song, he realized that he never thought he would have a wife. He really never thought said wife would be Hermione Granger! Have mercy on his soul, but that was a shocker.

He loved her more than he thought possible, not that he ever thought that was possible. He had always thought she was pretty, if not a bit conceited, and he would catch a look at her pretty legs when she would stop by the office to talk to Potter. He liked the way her legs were so long and were attached just right to her body. He laughed, again. He _**was**_ an idiot. All legs were attached to bodies, but hers were attached very nicely indeed.

He had bought a new car, a convertible, today, so that was why he was late. He knew they were going to drive to her parents' house, and he wanted to impress them. Undoubtedly, she had already told them all about him. She probably told them that he was handsome, kind, giving, oh hell, he couldn't even finish that thought. Knowing Granger, she told them that he was a pompous, pain in the arse, spoiled brat, and she would be pretty on the mark. Oh well, they could like him or not, he really didn't care. He only cared if she liked him, and frankly, he already knew the answer to that. She loved him, and moreover, he loved her. Also, her parents already knew he was handsome, since they saw him at the wedding. That was the most important thing. His looks.

He was slightly apprehensive about the plans for the first part of the weekend. He would be around all that 'Muggle' stuff. He hoped he wouldn't catch any Muggle illnesses while they were there. He wondered what her parents' house was like. He prayed to all that was holy and even to all that was unholy, that it was nicer than the Burrow. That place would always hold a special place in his heart because he fell in love with Granger there, but he certainly never wanted to spend another night there. Just the thought of it made his skin crawl.

Surely, her parents' house would be nicer than that. They were both dentist, which he knew meant they were teeth doctors. Why teeth needed doctors, he would never know. Maybe Muggles had a lot of teeth illnesses. He hoped he wouldn't catch any of those either. If he could only get through the first part of the weekend unscathed, then he could enjoy himself at his parents' house. He had so much he wanted to show her and tell her about his childhood home. It would be their house someday. He wondered if she realized that. That was why he wanted to move into her house, instead of have them move into his flat, even though his flat was twice the size of her little house. Basically, he wanted to be able to have a leg to stand on when they argued about living in the Manor someday. He already knew she would fight about it. He could come back with, 'but we lived in your house first!'

Her house was actually very nice. Very small, but very nice. It only had one bathroom. Draco had never heard of such a thing, before he spent last weekend at the Weasley's house. He thought one-bathroom houses were a thing of fables, fairytales, not real, but here was her house, and it only had one bathroom, too. How odd. He wondered how many bathrooms her parents' house had. He wished it had a name, because if it did, he could refer to it as something, besides, 'her parents' house'. Her little house was called 'Red Rose Cottage'. He liked that. It had red rose bushes all around the house. They were beautiful, but they paled in comparison to Hermione Granger.

He kept forgetting…she wasn't a Granger anymore. She was a Malfoy. He bought her a set of luggage for this weekend, and he had her initials engraved on the front of them. They were in the boot of the new car. He knew she packed last night, but she could quickly put her things in her new, engraved, luggage. It was engraved with her initials, HJM. He thought those were nice initials. He almost had them put HJGM on them, because he thought she might be under the fallacy that it would be all modern to keep her name as well as his, but then he realized how stupid that was. She was a traditionalist, like him. She was old fashion, like him. She was smart, like him. She would take his name.

As he drove closer to the cottage, he realized what a fool he was. Of course she wouldn't take his name. She probably meant to keep her stupid last name. He actually really didn't mind, since he called her Granger all the time, and as he really couldn't seem to call her much else, it might save confusion later in life when their children asked, 'Poppa, why do you call Momma, Granger?' If she kept her last name, their children would not be confused. Oh well, she could change the luggage later, if she wanted.

He drove up her driveway and saw Granger standing on the front porch. Oh, she looked angry. Was he that late? It was only twenty after. It would take another twenty to drive to her parents' place. Dinner wasn't until seven pm. What was the big deal?

He stopped the car, and she smiled. Okay, she wasn't that angry. He said, "Do you like the new car?"

"Is that why you're late?" she asked.

"Am I late?" he asked back. He got out of the car and threw their suitcases in the backseat. He figured he wouldn't have time to have her repack, after all.

"Yes, Draco, you're late, and I know you don't know this about me, so let's start a mental checklist about each other this weekend, and put number one on your checklist the fact that I absolutely abhor being late for anything!"

He shut his eyes tight, made a look as if he was concentrating, (or passing gas) and said, "Okay, duly marked."

"You're so weird," she said as if it were a matter of fact. He gave her a funny look and she said, "Oh, sorry." But then, she shut her eyes tight, as he did, and said, "Okay, I put that down as your number one, too."

"Ha, ha, my little wife thinks she's a comedian, but instead, she's sad and pathetic," he said. He opened the car door for her, and took her hand. She sat in the seat and looked up at him.

"Do you really think I'm sad and pathetic?" she asked, with a twinkle in her eye.

He smiled, and leaned down. He placed his knuckles across her cheek, and held her chin with his thumb and forefinger. He leaned toward her and tasted her lips. Ah, perfection. He said, "There's absolutely nothing sad and pathetic about you, Granger."

"It's Granger Malfoy, no hyphen," she informed him. He came around the side of the car and sat down.

He said, "I wondered about that. I knew you would have some kind of crazy idea about keeping your last name."

"Do you mind?" she asked.

"Not really. You alluded to the fact at the wedding, and just like I said on that day, you're the one who will have to tell my father." He laughed. He started the car and pulled out to the street. He gunned the engine and their little adventure began.

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Chapter 2 – **

It was a wonderfully warm late afternoon. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, which by the way was a startling bright blue, and it was warm, without being humid. Hermione's hair blew all around her in waves as they drove along at speeds best left not mentioned. Draco took a quick look over at her and smiled. She was so pretty.

He thought that a lot, but it was true, so that was why. He loved her smile, the way she bit her lip when she was nervous or concentrating, both of which she was doing now, the way her eyes would narrow to thin little strips when she was angry, the way she would take a deep breath and close her eyes before she yelled at him, and the way she would moan deep in her throat when she was in the throes of passion.

That was a long thought, but he loved her.

He reached over and took her hand. She pointed to the turn off, as if he wouldn't remember. She had only told him three times last night, twice this morning, and once already here in the car, which turn off to take. He wasn't an idiot. Of course, she was used to dating Weaselbee, so one could hardly blame her for her diligence.

He slowed down as they turned from the highway into a neighborhood. He suddenly swerved the car, instinctively reaching over with his left hand to hold Hermione in place. Might as well cop a feel while he was at it.

She hit his hand away and said, "What's wrong with the car?"

The car started to bounce up and down, and there was a strange noise, ba dum, ba dum, ba dum. He pulled over. He got out. They had a flat tire!! She got out too and said, "What did you do?"

"Well, seeing as I'm not a tire, I didn't do anything! If you must yell at something, yell at this effing tire up here!" He bent down. He stood back up and said, "It's a brand new car, it shouldn't have flat tires yet!"

She laughed and said, "Draco, even a new car can have a blow out! You must have run over something, like a nail." She bent down and said, "Have you ever changed a tire before?"

"No, have you?" he asked.

She shook her head no. "No, do you have a spare?" she asked.

"I don't know. Where would it be?" he wondered.

"In the boot, usually," she said. They both walked around to the boot and he opened it with the key. She saw the luggage. "Oh, Draco, why didn't you tell me you got new luggage? It's really nice," she said as she fingered the leather.

"I thought the old stuff was good enough for your parents' house. We can change before we go to the Manor," he said seriously. She gave him a 'you better be joking look' and he had to laugh. "Fine, I'm joking. I was afraid to give it to you because you had to start with the whole keeping your name spill and I had your new initials embroidered on it, that's all."

"Well, that's very sweet. I might change my mind about the name thing. Maybe you can convince me," she said.

"Maybe you can help me change this tire, Queen of Muggles, since we can't use magic with all the cars passing by," he said with an air of annoyance.

"Fine, but don't call me the Queen of Muggles," she said, annoyed herself.

"Princess, then," he laughed. He placed the luggage out of the boot and looked at the empty area in front of them. "If there is a tire in here, I'm a red-headed Weasley."

Hermione bent over the trunk, looked at what appeared to be the floor of the boot, and lifted it up. Underneath was the spare. She looked at him and 'smirked'. "Which Weasley are you?" she laughed.

"Now what do we do?" he asked, ignoring the 'Weasley' comment, as he heaved the tire out of the trunk. She reached in for the jack and the tire iron.

"I've only ever seen my dad do this, but we need to put the jack under the car, making sure we actually put it under the car, not under the tire well. Then we pump it up, use this end of the tire iron to take off the lug nuts, remove the old tire, put on the new one, and like magic, the tire is changed," she described.

He merely stared at her for many long minutes and then said, "No, you don't know how to do it, apart from the fact that you just described the whole bloody thing, and frankly, since you are so learned, why don't you do it. I don't want to get myself dirty."

"I think we can pretend to do it the Muggle way, and use some magic, no one will notice," she said. She put the jack under the car. They were facing away from traffic, so Draco saw her point. He took out his wand and made the jack and the car both raise off the ground. He used his wand to remove the lug nuts. He heaved the old tire off, it was quite heavy, and put the new one on.

He said, "I'm tired, you do the rest."

"Tired?" she asked incredulously, "You didn't really do anything, you nut!"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. He put his mouth to her neck, kissed the long column there, and let his tongue slide across the same area. His hand went to her bum and he said, "Public snogging, or changing tires, your choice."

"Public snogging, please." She smiled.

"You're my kind of girl," he said, as he kissed up to her face.

"Good thing, since you married me," she answered, her eyes closed, relishing in the feel of his mouth moving across her cheek.

"Let's finish this and then hurry up and get to your parents' house, so we can take a nap," he said.

"I'm not tired," she offered.

He rolled his eyes and said, "From now on, taking a nap will be our code word for having sex. Here, put it on your mental checklist," and he put his hands over her eyes. "Do you have it on there yet?"

"Give me a moment, I need to put it right after the 'Draco is a git part'." She was quiet a moment and then said, "Yes, it's there," and she smiled.

He removed his hand and added, "I don't need to put it on my mental checklist, because I think about having sex with you every minute of the day."

She leaned against the car and asked, "Do you think about it every minute of the day, or you mean you want to have sex every minute of the day?"

He actually thought that one over for a couple of minutes and said, "Both, actually." He swatted her bum and turned around to finish with the tire.

They finished the tire, put everything away, and then got back in the car. As they were driving, his left hand found its way to her knee. He squeezed it playfully. He said, "How did I get so lucky to have you as my wife?"

"I don't know how to answer that. I would make a joke, but seriously, I think I'm the lucky one," she answered. He looked over at her and winked.

"No, I'm the lucky one. You're fortunate, and I'm lucky."

"What's the difference?" she asked. "Fortunate means to be lucky, or to bring luck."

He said, "Okay, no difference, miss 'Walking Dictionary'. I don't know if I want to be married to someone smarter than I."

"You would have remained a bachelor all your life, then," she joked.

"Hey, I understand English you know," he said. "No need to insult."

They reached her parents' street and she actually jumped up and down, excited. He said, "Do you have to go potty? Because I told you to go before we left," and he laughed.

She grabbed his arm and said, "We're here!"

They pulled in the drive, and her father was already out the front door to meet them. Leaving Draco behind, she ran up the walk, up the front porch steps, and into her father's waiting arms. Draco retrieved their luggage and followed, feeling somewhat apprehensive all of the sudden. Hermione's mother joined them on the porch. Draco marveled at the way they hugged and kissed each other. They had seen each other just two weeks ago, at the wedding, but one would think it had been a year.

Draco shook Dr. Granger's hand, as her father took some of the luggage. They entered the house and a big yellow Labrador retriever came running up to them, jumping up on Draco, and making him scream like a little girl.

"Get down, Bailey!" Hermione said, taking the dog's collar. "Sorry Draco."

"A dog?" Draco asked. "I didn't know you had a dog," he said.

"You like dogs," Hermione reminded. She knew he had told her that he liked dogs.

"Yes, I do, I'm just surprised you have a dog." Draco leaned down to pet the dogs head.

"I don't have a dog. My parents do," she said.

"Hermione, show Draco your old room, and then freshen up before you come down for some coffee," Hermione's mother said. She started up the stairs. The foyer was large, with oak stairs winding upwards, white and red striped wallpaper covering the walls, and a large grandfather clock in the entryway. Draco was sure this house had to have more than one bathroom. He followed her up the stairs, and down a hall, to a white door at the end. She opened the door.

"Ta da, may I present my childhood bedroom," she said. He put their luggage down and looked around.

"It's pink," he said, rather alarmed.

"Yes, it is," she answered back.

"But that's so girly," he said and then he laughed. He fingered some of the knick-knacks sitting around on the dresser.

"And I'm a girl, so I'm not sure I see the problem," she answered. She sat on the bed.

"It's nice, just, so pink," he said again. He opened one door, which led to a large walk in closet. He opened another door, and it showed a bathroom. He said, "Bless your parents for having more than one bathroom."

"What is it with you and bathrooms?" she asked. She lay back on the bed. He walked over to the bed and leaned down. He put one knee on the bed. She reached up and rubbed his thigh up and down with her hand. He smiled at her and then plopped beside her on the bed.

"Where's your parents' bedroom?" he asked, with a gleam to his eye.

"The other end of the house, far, far, away," she said. "I've always wanted to have sex in my bedroom." She laughed.

"You've never had sex in your bedroom?" he asked, his hand flat on her stomach.

"No, well, not with someone else," she said. She frowned because that didn't come out right. He laughed at that. She said, "Wait, that's not right."

"No, it's morally wrong and I am ashamed of you," he said back.

"That's not what I meant, either," she amended.

"I don't bloody well care what you meant," he said. He put his nose along her forehead, skimming it down her cheek. He kissed her lips and said, "I shall make," he kissed her lips, "sweet and passionate," he touched her breasts, "love to you" he licked her neck, "in your bedroom, tonight." He put his lips right on hers, and kissed her with every ounce of energy he had.

She finally pushed him off her and said, "We have to go down for coffee."

He lay back on the bed and said, "How do you turn off your passion like that?"

She looked at him and said, "It's still on, I just have it on pause. I will turn it back to play later tonight."

"Is that a promise?" he asked.

"If you would like," she said. She scooted to the end of the bed. He stayed where he was. She reached over and touched his leg. She turned to look at him. He was looking up at a poster over the bed.

"WHO THE HELL IS THAT?" he asked.

She lay back down beside him and looked up. She sighed and smiled contently. "Ah, that's Justin Timberlake." He looked at her and she was smiling.

"Who is Justin Timberlake? Your old boyfriend?" he asked with a frown. She looked over at him and began to giggle.

"No, he's a singer and when I was younger, I had a big crush on him. My mother bought that poster for me, and I hung it up there and used to look up at him before I went to sleep, so I would dream about him," she explained. She reached her hand up and said, "I've missed you, Justin."

Draco had a look of total and complete disgust on his face. He said, "He must come down! I cannot sleep here with some pretty boy looking at me all night. Especially some pretty boy my wife used to fantasize about, so take it down!"

She moved so she was on her side and said, "You're prettier."

"I know I am, but that's not the point. It's juvenile and a bit creepy, so take it down!" He sat up.

"No." She slid off the bed and stood beside it.

"Granger, please, it's looking at me," he said.

"Maybe he thinks you're pretty, too." She walked toward the door.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and looked up. He said, "This isn't the end of this, pretty boy. By the end of the night, you will come off that ceiling!"

She smiled from the door and said, "I think you're jealous, Malfoy. Jealous of a poster, for goodness sakes!"

He laughed and stood up. He would worry about the 'poster boy' later. He said, "Let me visit this lovely bathroom first. Wait for me in the hall."

She stepped out in the hall, and he went to the bathroom. On his way out to the hall when he was done, he saw a post-it-board over her desk. He leaned over to look at it. There were photographs, Muggle and Magical, of her growing up. There were articles she had torn out of magazines. There were a couple of poems. There were two blue ribbons. He saw a list on a yellowed piece of paper. He took it from the post-it-board and read.

Things that if a guy let a girl do, he would be perfect...

1) Throw pebbles at her window at night

2) Let her fall asleep in your arms

3) Sing to her, no matter how awful it sounds

4) Get her mad at you, and then kiss her

5) Give her piggyback rides

6) Push her on the swings

7) Tell her she looks beautiful

8) When she is sad, stay on the phone with her, even if she is not saying anything

9) Look into her eyes and smile

10) Kiss her on the forehead

11) Slow dance with her even when there is no music

12) Kiss her in the rain

13) And, finally, when you fall in love with her, tell her that you love her.

He looked back toward the door. He heard her humming. He looked out the crack in the door, and she was on the top step, petting the dog. He read over the list once more, and put it in his pocket. He was going to fulfill each one of these task before the night was over. He walked out her bedroom, and she looked up at him. He pulled her up to stand beside him. He looked into her eyes, smiled (number 9), and said, "You are so beautiful," (number 7) and he kissed her on the forehead, (number 10). Three down and ten to go.

(*The list was thanks to arathigal)

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	3. Chapter 3

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**Chapter 3 – **

Draco had decided to do all thirteen things on Hermione's list before the weekend was over. He was not even going to tell her. Too bad 'tearing a poster of a pretty boy off her ceiling' wasn't on the list. He took her hand and walked down the stairs with her, looking back up toward her door.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked as she saw him look back up the stairs.

"Nothing, really, nothing," he lied. He was plotting on how to tear down that poster without her knowledge.

They made their way down to the living room and Hermione's mother offered Draco some coffee and biscuits. Draco thanked her and sat on a loveseat, next to Hermione.

"So, Draco, I thought we would go to the club tonight for dinner. All our friends will be there, and we want to show off our handsome new son-in-law, if that's okay with you. Everyone is dying to see Hermione again, as well," her mother said.

Draco laughed and said, "They want to see me first and you second, Granger."

"Yes, well, if they knew you, they wouldn't," Hermione said.

"Hermione, that's not nice," her mother said.

"Why do you call her Granger?" her father asked, "Seems odd, and a bit disrespectful, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Dad, we've always called each other Granger and Malfoy, so it's normal for us," Hermione answered.

"But you aren't a Granger anymore," he said back.

"Yes she is, she's all modern and wants to keep her last name," Draco said, leaning over and taking a cookie off the plate.

"Well, well, that's grand." Her dad smiled.

"I might use both names. Hermione Granger Malfoy, no hyphen, I haven't decided yet," Hermione announced.

"I think you should take Draco's last name," her mother stated.

Draco smiled and said, "These are wonderful cookies, Mrs. Granger, or would you prefer I call you Dr. Granger?"

"No need to butter her up," Hermione's dad said, "she didn't bake the biscuits, the bakery did."

"Thank you anyway, Draco," her mother said, giving her father a dirty look, "and please, call me Phyllis. You can call my husband Edward." She stood up and said, "Well, I need to go take a bath before dinner. We'll leave in an hour, is that alright with everyone?"

Everyone nodded and smiled, so she left the room. Hermione's father leaned toward the pair and said, "I wanted a nice quiet dinner at home, but she wanted to show you both off, however, if you would rather stay here, we can."

"No, its fine, Dad," Hermione said. Draco nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'll go clean up a bit, too. Draco, I saw your nice new car out there. Would you care to drive tonight?" Edward asked.

"Better yet, why don't you drive it there tonight, Sir," Draco said.

"That is better. Good idea, Draco, good idea." Edward Granger went to the front window, looked out at the car, and went upstairs.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Kiss up."

"Parents love me, no matter what," Draco said. He pulled her legs around and put them over his lap. "What shall we do while we wait?" He rubbed his hands up and down her legs.

"Not this, though that does feel nice," Hermione said. "Shall I show you around the house, a little tour?"

"Do we have time?" he asked, seriously.

"Draco, this isn't like the manor. It has four bedrooms, a dining room, a den, a living room, a music room, a kitchen, a maid's room, and five bathrooms."

"Oh, show me the bathrooms first." He laughed.

They took a tour of the house, and then Hermione led him outside to the back garden. "That's my playhouse," she said, pointing to a little white shed with green shutters. "My uncle David built it for me before he died."

"How did he die?" Draco asked, walking them over to the little playhouse.

"He was 44 years old, my father's brother, and he died in a motorcycle accident," she said. She opened the little door and ducked down. It was hot and stuffy in the little room. She opened the little windows.

Draco stood outside and said, "Will we both fit?"

"I think so, get in here," she said back.

He lowered his head and stepped inside. The little place had a desk, two small wooden chairs, and drawings and posters all over the walls. It had curtains and books, and a hardwood floor.

"This is nicer than the Weasley's house," Draco said dryly.

"That's not nice," Hermione waned. She sat in one of the little chairs. She patted the seat beside her.

"I won't fit," he said.

"Sit down," she said. He gave her a strange look, but sat on the little green chair.

"Uncomfortable," he said. "This place has electricity?" he asked, looking at the hanging light bulb.

"Yes, it does," she said. "I used to spend the night out here, but my father always slept out in a tent by the door, to protect me from the monsters that roamed the back garden."

He laughed and touched her knee and said, "Who's going to protect you now?"

"Do I need protecting?" she asked, coyly.

"You might," he answered. He pulled her over to his lap. "I'm not a monster, but I do mean you harm," he said. He kissed the side of her neck. Suddenly, the chair they were in broke and they landed hard on the floor. "Granger! I told you it wouldn't hold me."

"It might have if you hadn't pulled me on your lap," she said, crawling off him. "I had those chairs since I was three."

"I'll fix it," he said. He pulled out his wand and fixed the chair. He pushed it aside and stayed on the floor. He leaned against the wall and crooked his finger toward himself, and said, "Come to me now, lovely wife." She walked over on her knees to him and sat in front of him on the floor, in between his legs. He said, "Now, let's do something to use up the time before dinner."

"Okay, let's play a game," she said.

"Just because we're in a child's playhouse, we don't have to play children's games," he said. "I want to play an adult's game," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. She moved from inside his legs, and propped her back on the opposite wall.

"No sex in my playhouse," she commanded.

"You aren't any fun," he said, as he grabbed her ankle, and refused to let go. He took off her sandal and tickled. She kicked at him as she laughed.

"Stop! STOP!" She laughed hard. He finally stopped. She caught her breath and said, "Now, this game goes like this, we each have to say one thing we like about the other, using the alphabet, and if you can't think of one, you lose. Oh, and you have to say the other person's answer too, so it's a memory game."

"When you say things like that I honestly don't listen," he said.

She ignored him and said, "I'll go first. I like you because you have strong arms. See, arms start with 'A'."

"You don't say," he said back. "To make this more interesting, let's touch the places we say."

"No, because you have 'B' and you will say 'breasts' and that will lead to sex in the playhouse," Hermione laughed. "Besides, what if I say I like your laugh, for 'L'. I can't touch your laugh."

"Then we have to say only things we can touch," he said. He pulled on her arms and made her come next to him. He said, "I'll go next. I like your arms," and he held out her right arm and stroked his fingertips lightly down it. "And I like your breasts," he said. She gave him an annoyed look and he said, "Well, you gave me the idea. I was going to say 'back', I swear." He reached out and touched the side of her left breast lightly, outside her blouse, with his right hand. She turned so she was facing him.

"Take away your hand and let me have my turn," she said, as his hand lingered. "I like your arms, your breasts…" she rolled her eyes, "and your, um, your, collarbone." She reached over and unbuttoned one button of his black polo shirt, and touched his collarbone.

"I like your arms, your breasts." He touched her left breast again. "Your collarbone, and your dimples." He leaned forward, and reached around her, and pinched her bum.

"OW!" she hollered. "First, you don't need to touch the previously mentioned things, so not more touching breasts. Second, I don't have dimples, and why did you pinch me?"

"You have a cute dimple on your backside." He smiled.

"You're an idiot." She laughed.

"And you married me a day after we began to date, so what does that make you?" he asked. "Take your turn."

"I like your arms, your breasts," rolled eyes once again, "your collarbone, your dimples," she pinched his cheek, "and your eyebrows." She reached up and traced first one eyebrow, and then the other.

"I like your arms, breasts, collarbone, dimples, eyebrows and your freckles." He leaned forward and kissed her nose. "You have three on your nose, so I thought if I kissed your nose, I could touch all three at once."

"How smart of you," she said, smiling.

"I have my moments," he answered. "Although you called me an idiot but a moment ago."

"I like your arms, your breasts, your collarbone, your dimples, your eyebrows, your freckles, although you don't have any, and your…" she ended. She thought for a moment.

"Say groin," he said.

"No!" She hit his arm.

"Yes!" He hit her arm.

"No!" She hit him again.

"Touch my groin," he said.

"No, I like your grin," she said. She leaned forward and traced his mouth with her tongue, and then sat back down.

"Well, now my groin needs something done to it, after that little display," he said.

"Just take your turn," she implored.

"Arms, breasts, collarbone, dimples, eyebrows, freckles, groin…"

She stopped him, "I didn't say groin, and stop rushing through the list. Normally, an incorrect answer would mean you lose, but I know you're just being a prat, so what was the real 'g'?"

He thought for a moment and said, "I really forget."

"I just said it ten seconds ago, and you forget?" she asked.

"If I say yes, can we stop playing this stupid game?" he asked. He took her hand.

"We can stop anyway, if you really want to, but I thought you of all people would want to get to the letter 'P'." She looked up, then down, and then looked back at him, trying to feign innocence.

"You won't say that," he said. "Will 'P' even be your turn?"

She thought for a second and said, "Oh, no, I think it'll be yours, and I don't have a penis, so never mind."

"Ha! You wouldn't have said it anyway. What bloody letter are we on, Granger?"

"G."

"I can't think of a 'G'," he complained.

She sighed and said, "You don't have to think of one, you have to remember the one I already said."

"Oh, right." He thought forever, and finally said, "Give me a hint. I can only think of groin, and I know you didn't say that."

She grinned at him.

"Give me hint, Hermione."

She grinned larger.

"Why are you grinning like a crazy woman?" he asked.

She said, "You lose."

He suddenly tackled her and tickled her. The space was so small and compact, that he absolutely had no choice but to lay on top of her. It was a matter of space that was all. He said, "I remember. You said 'grin'." He leaned down and kissed her once, quickly. His nose edged along her jaw and he said, "And I love your eyelashes. That's my 'I'." He touched her eyelashes with his nose as well.

"Eyelashes don't start with an 'I'." She put her hand on his face.

"They should. Your turn," he said. He leaned down and kissed her again.

She said, "I love your arms," and she reached up and put her hands on his arms, "I love your breasts," she touched his chest as he leaned over her, "I love your collarbone," she brought her head up and kissed his collarbone, "I love your dimples," she reached over and pinched his bum. He looked shocked. "I love your eyebrows, which by the way, start with the letter 'E'," she said, as she reached up and outlined both eyebrows with her fingertip. "I love your freckles," she said. She kissed his nose. "I love your grin," she said, and she leaned up and kissed his mouth. He leaned forward and kissed her hard. He let his lips part from hers and she said, "I love your, hey, wait a minute. We forgot 'H'! You went right to 'I' and forgot 'H'."

"So, you just pick an 'H'," he said, but then he added, "Wait, I want to go back and do the 'H'. It will be better than 'I', after all, eyelashes don't start with 'I' anyway. I don't know why you let me use that."

"Let you?" she said. She pushed on him and sat back up. "I can't think of an 'I' either, so I'll do the 'H'."

"Cheater," he said, sitting beside her.

"Okay, do a quick 'H' and I'll do the 'I'," she conceded.

Just then, her father called out to them. "Saved by the bellow," he said. He stood up, and opened the little door. "We can pick this game up tonight, in bed, and we can use all sorts of body parts tonight, in bed," he repeated the last part.

She followed him out of the playhouse, and smoothed down her skirt. "We can finish it with my poster of Justin looking down on us," she joked.

"No, because the poster of the pretty boy will be down by tonight," he said.

"We'll see," she said, dashing away from him. When she reached the door she said, "Justin will stare at us all night long."

He reached the door and said, "It's coming down, Granger." They entered the kitchen and Edward held out his hand. Draco looked confused. He said, "Do you want money?"

Hermione laughed and Edward looked confused this time. Hermione said, "He wants your keys, Malfoy. Money, indeed." Draco reached in his pocket and handed the keys to Edward. Hermione went and got her purse from the hall coat rack, and stood by the front door.

Draco said, "It's coming down."

"It's staying up," she said. They walked behind her parents, and she closed and locked the door.

"Down," he said again, pinching her arm, hard.

"Up!" she said, flicking his forehead. Edward opened the car door, and leaned the front seat up. Draco entered the backseat first, and Hermione climbed in after.

"Down," he said again.

Edward asked Phyllis, "What are they bickering about this time?" as he got in the car.

"Her Justin Timberlake poster," Phyllis said, closing her door.

"Oh," he said. He turned to look at Draco and said, "I'm with you on this one, Draco."

Draco looked at Hermione and said, "Your dad's with me."

Hermione shook her head. "It's not up for a vote."

Draco suddenly got the list out of his pocket, to see if he could get another one scratched off before dinner. Number 4 was, 'Get her mad at you, and then kiss her'. He put the list back in his pocket. She looked at him with a funny expression. She said, "Is that my list from my bulletin board?"

"It might be, but answer this first, are you angry with me about the poster thing," he asked.

She said, "Sort of."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Another one down, at this rate, he would finish the list by tonight.

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	4. Chapter 4

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**Chapter 4 –**

Draco leaned over and kissed Hermione's cheek. Then, he had an almost 'cocky' expression cross his face. He took Hermione's hand. "Are you up to something?" she asked.

"Why would you think I'm up to something?" he asked her.

"You have a strange, almost satisfied look on your face," she said, as her father started the engine.

"Maybe I'm happy," he said.

"Maybe you're up to something," she countered.

"Maybe I have gas," he said.

"Maybe you're a wanker," she laughed.

"Hermione, button," her mother said. Draco gave Hermione a strange look.

"What does that mean? Button?" Draco asked.

"It means I need to watch what I say. There's a Muggle expression, 'button your lip', and when I was small and I would say off-coloured or inappropriate things, my mother would just say the word 'button' and I would know to be quiet," she explained, leaning forward, she addressed her mother, "but I would like to point out, that he is a wanker most of the time, Mum."

Draco leaned forward and said, "I really am. Plus, she's called me much worse."

"You aren't helping matters," Hermione said.

"I'm not trying to help," he pointed out and then he laughed.

Hermione shook her head. "Anyway, back to our conversation, what's with the smirk, I mean, I know that's your normal look, but it was especially 'smirky' back there. Are you guilty of something?"

"Undoubtedly," he said, "And you really don't know me well enough to know all my looks yet."

Hermione's mother turned around to the inhabitants of the backseat and said, "About that, we told most of our friends that you have known each other a long time, and had dated for a while before you married."

"You lied?" Hermione said.

Draco smiled and said, "A woman after my own heart. You could learn a thing or two from your mum, Hermione."

Edward said, "Seriously, Hermione, we know you have a good head on your shoulders, but most people would think you were bonkers marrying after a weekend. Also, you have known each other a long time, so that's not really a fabrication."

Hermione sat back in the seat, folded her arms and said, "Humph!"

Draco said, "Now you're both going to get the silent treatment. She's crossed her arms and she looks miffed. She tries this with me all the time. It doesn't last long."

"You don't know me well enough to know all my looks yet," she mocked from what he said earlier.

"See, she's talking already," Draco said.

From the driver's seat, Edward Granger asked, "Draco, do you work at the Ministry with Harry?"

"Yes, I'm an Auror," he said. He asked, "Do you know what that is?'

"Isn't Harry an Auror?" Phyllis asked.

"Yes, Mum," Hermione answered.

"We love Harry," Phyllis stated. "Don't we, Ed?"

"Yes, lovely man. Don't like that Ron that much," Hermione's father said.

"I'm with you there, Edward," Draco said, leaning forward and patting his arm.

"You love Harry, too?" Hermione asked with a crooked grin.

"I'm with you there about the Ron, part, Edward," Draco amended.

Phyllis looked at Edward and said, "If they ask what he does for a living, what should we say? Hermione, what should we say?"

Draco answered, "Just tell them I am rich and I don't work. That usually impresses people."

"Are you rich?" Phyllis asked.

"MUM!" Hermione said.

"It's a valid question, Hermione," her dad said.

"Yes, I am. In the Wizarding world, I am the fifth richest person," Draco said. Hermione gave him a funny look.

"He's kidding, Dad," Hermione answered.

"No, I'm really not," Draco said seriously.

"You aren't?" Hermione was overwhelmed.

Draco looked at her funny and said, "You didn't know? Potter never told you?"

"No, does Harry know?" Hermione asked.

"He's number four, the bastard," Draco said.

"WHAT?" Hermione asked.

"You really didn't know, did you? There goes my father's theory that you married me for my money." He laughed.

They stopped at a light, and Hermione's father said, "The engine in this automobile is so quiet that you can scarcely tell it's even running. When did you get this car, Draco?"

"This morning," Draco said.

"Really? What car did you drive before this?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked.

Mr. Granger looked at Draco in the rearview mirror and said, "The car you traded in for this one, what type was it?"

"I didn't trade a car in. I just went out and bought this one today because Hermione said she wanted to drive to your house, in case she wanted to show me around, that's all," Draco explained.

"So you didn't have a car before this one?" Phyllis Granger asked.

"No, I've have others," he said.

"How many others?" she asked.

"Counting this car?" he asked her.

"Yes," she answered.

Draco thought a moment and said, "This is my, let me think, three, four, the black BMW and the grey one, would be five and six, the Rolls, the jag, the corvette, okay, nine, ten…this is my sixteenth car."

Hermione's father misunderstood and said, "You are awfully young to have gone through so many cars. That's more than one a year. What happens, you get tired of one, and then throw them away and get another?"

"I don't understand," Draco said, sincerely.

"Dad, I think what Draco is saying is that he currently owns sixteen cars," Hermione answered slowly, barely able to believe it herself.

"Gads, he is rich," Edward said.

"Where do you keep them all? Hermione's house only has a one car garage, and she has a car," Phyllis said.

"They're at my parents' house, for the most part. I don't drive often. I use other forms of transportation," Draco said. He suddenly felt ill at ease. He knew the Granger's weren't dirt poor like the Weasleys, not many people were, but he saw their small four bedrooms, five-bathroom house. Money must be tight for them. He said, "If you would like this car, you can have it. I just bought it for the trip."

"DRACO!" Hermione chastised. "You don't need to buy my parent's affection."

"And we have two cars, that's enough for us," Phyllis said, as she looked over her shoulder toward the backseat.

"Now, ladies, if Draco wishes to give me this car, who am I to refuse?" Edward said with a large smile on his face. They turned into the entrance of the club. Hermione was once again quiet with her arms folded. Draco needed to see if he could do any of the things on the list. Was there anything about 'tickling her when she was giving you the silent treatment'? He didn't think so. Her father parked and they got out of the car.

Hermione's parents walked into the club before Draco and Hermione. He reached for her hand, and she let him take it, so she wasn't angry. He pulled her toward him before the entered and he said, "Why are you angry? I did a nice thing."

"My parents love you," she answered.

"And that's a bad thing?" he asked. "It's the least they could do, since they already love Harry Potter. I'm going to help give them grandchildren someday."

"Your parents won't like me as much," she said, looking at the ground. She stopped walking. He touched her chin with his thumb.

"I know tomorrow night will be hard for you, but I won't leave your side once, and if they're awful to you, which I doubt, then we'll leave. Let's enjoy our time with your parents, right?" he said. He leaned over and kissed her lips, with a sweet, sensual, short kiss.

They sat in the dining room, and after ordering their food, people started to come up to the table. Draco was introduced to Hermione's former piano teacher, their next door neighbors, her parent's business partner, a man who claimed to have once changed her nappies, (he didn't like that bloke) and a whole array of others. Phyllis and Edward beamed with pride for not only their darling Hermione, but for Draco as well. He didn't know what to make of that.

When their pastor stopped by the table and asked Draco what his parents did for a living, he was bowled over and he didn't know how to answer. Finally, Hermione said, "They're retired."

As the man continued to talk to the Dr. Grangers, Draco said, "Nice save."

"Well, it's not really a lie. They used to be Death Eaters, and now they aren't," she whispered.

He said in a very low voice, for only her to hear, "Does your parents know what Death Eaters are?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Do they know my parents were Death Eaters?" he asked deliberately.

"No," she said, looking down at her napkin on her lap. He reached over and grabbed her hand. He brought it up to his mouth, and kissed her fingers.

After they began to eat, Draco said, again, just to Hermione, "There are so many Muggles in here; I can almost feel the Muggle germs floating around me."

"Oh no, Muggle germs, whatever will you do?" she asked, as she rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious. You might have to help me take a nice long shower when we get back, to wash them all off me," he said back to her with a slight grin.

"I will do just that," she said with a short laugh.

They took their after dinner drinks to the veranda. They sat in a glider, side by side, and Draco said, "Let's finish our game from earlier, because I thought of a great 'H'."

"We will have to do that in the privacy of my room tonight, or do it without touching, your choice," she said.

Instead of answering, he said, "I love your Arms, your Breasts, your Collarbone, your Dimples, your Eyebrows, your Grin, your Freckles, and your Hands. 'H'. Hands." He took both her hands in his.

"Did you learn your alphabet before Hogwarts?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, affronted.

"You said 'grin' before 'freckles', and you totally forgot the 'H' earlier, so I just wondered," she said. She put her head on his shoulder. She said, "I have to think of an 'I' now, don't I?"

"Looks like it," he said. He began to glide them back and forth, so she put her feet underneath her.

"Here goes," she said, "I love your arms, when they hold me tight, your breasts, when they are pressed up against mine. I love your collarbone, when it has little drops of water on it after your shower, your dimples, when you smile at me. Your eyebrows, when they question what I say or do, your freckles, although you have none. I love that wonderful Malfoy grin, when you're thinking of something sinful, your hands, when they touch me places no other man has touched me, because they make me feel like no other man has ever made me feel, and your 'icky' little cute tongue, when it wraps around mine during a passionate kiss."

"You have me hot and bothered now, and there's nothing I can do about it! Now I will have to take a cold shower when we get back," he said, pulling on her hand and then giving it a squeeze.

She leaned over and kissed his lips. "I was going to say I loved your ileum, because I couldn't think of body part that started with 'I', but I thought part of your small intestine would be slightly less romantic."

"You were wise to change your choice at the last moment." He laughed. "How much longer do we have to stay here?"

"I'll tell my mum and dad that we'll head home, and then they can just stay and talk to their friends if they want," she said. She stood and went to talk to her parents and then she came back and said, "Let's go. We'll have to walk, because we can't risk someone seeing us apparate."

"How many blocks?" he asked.

"About fifteen, almost the same number of cars you have," she said with a joke.

"I'm not walking fifteen blocks," he said unconditionally.

She patted his stomach as he stood and said, "You can walk off your dinner."

They started to leave the club, telling everyone goodbye, but before they could leave the front door, a good looking man came up to her and said, "Hermione? Hermione Granger, is that you?"

"Ryan?" she asked. "OH, Ryan!" They hugged, much to Draco's aggravation and annoyance. "Ryan, this is my husband, Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is Ryan Summerset. We went to primary school together."

"I was her first boyfriend," the man said with a short laugh.

"Yes, well, I was her last," Draco answered perturbed. He shook the man's hand, rather roughly, and said, "Excuse us, Brian, we were just leaving."

"I'm sorry, Ryan. My parents are still inside. Be sure to tell them you're here," Hermione said. She kissed his cheek and met Draco outside.

She walked up to him and took his hand. He said, "Was Brian one of your boyfriends?"

"Yes, when I was six, and his name is Ryan," she said. "Are you jealous?" she said with a grin.

"Of course I am!" He laughed. "How can I not be? You might leave me at a moments notice and trot off with one of your many old boyfriends," he said.

"I'm not a prostitute. I didn't really have many old boyfriends, Draco, so be reasonable," she said.

They walked along, and the evening was sky still light, and the setting sun still at least an hour away, Hermione began to point out things from her childhood. There was the park she played in and one time she fell off the swing and the seat came back and hit her on the chin, and she received ten stitches. She lifted her chin so he could see the scar. He kissed her chin, and then they continued walking, arm in arm.

She showed him her first school, the place she took dance lessons, (all five of them), and the place where she fell off her first bike. He was fascinated. Not because the tour was anything special. Not because of the scenery. It was because she was sharing a part of her life, her past life, with him, and he loved that, because he loved her.

She was leaning on a fence, pointing to a neighbor's tree, when he snuck out the list. She saw and said, "Draco Malfoy! That is my list from my post-it-board!"

"Yes, you caught me red-handed. I wanted to do everything on the list by the end of the evening, or at least before we leave tomorrow," he admitted. She walked over toward him and took the list.

"I didn't even write this. A friend of mine did, although I thought they were all solid, valid, points, so that's why I kept it. Let's see," she said, as she looked over the list, "It seems you have a couple done already."

"I have four done, thank you. If you would allow me to push you on the swing in your back yard, and let me sing to you, I will get two more crossed off the list," he said as they walked up toward her front garden.

She led him toward the back of the house and said, "Let's do it. You told me at the Burrow that if I ever heard you sing, I would probably run and hide, so I can't wait to hear what you're going to sing to me."

"I can't either," he said with disdain. Draco Malfoy was a man of many, many talents. Good looks, incredible charm, charismatic, but he couldn't carry a tune if it was put in a bucket and his life depended on it, and that was why he wanted to get that one out of the way.

She lifted the latch to the gate, and started through. He stopped her and said, "If I make you a list, will you do it, when we go to my parents' house?"

"I can just see your list, it probably has whip crème, chains, and leather involved," she laughed.

"I am trying to be sensitive here, but you do make a good point. I will make that list when we get home. But, if I make a list like your list, will you do everything on it, to prove you love me?" He pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her. She brought her arms up to her neck.

"I'll try, just make a mental note on your mental check list right now that I won't do anything embarrassing," she said.

He was about to embarrass himself, by singing, so he wasn't going to put that on his little mental checklist, not just yet.

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	5. Chapter 5

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**Chapter 5- **

They walked around to her backyard, to her old, little, blue and white, rusted swing set. Hermione said, "I really believe this will not hold me these days."

"I believe you may be right, but give it go," Draco said, as he pulled on one of the little swings to make sure it was sturdy.

Hermione sat down, she was so low to the ground that she couldn't even bend her knees, and said, "Start pushing, Mister."

She held her legs out straight in front of her and he pushed her, somewhat timidly, at first. The whole swing set moved. Even though her father had at one time anchored it to the ground, the swing set was not made for anyone her size. Draco pushed her a few more times and she said, "This is a massive disappointment." Well, seriously, look what he had to work with! It wasn't his fault. She stood up and said, "Okay, enough swinging."

"No, that won't do," he said. He took out his wand, looked around, the evening sky was still not dark enough to shield prying eyes, but there was a high fence, so he judiciously pointed his wand at a tree, transfigured a low lying branch into a swing, and went over to pull on it twice, to make sure it could withstand her weight.

She smiled and said, "If I was writing my list today, I would add, 'have your boyfriend transfigure a swing for you'."

"Boyfriend?" he said. He held up her hand, and kissed her wedding ring and said, "This little ring makes you my little woman."

"HA!" she said. "Little woman?" She sat on the swing. It was a nice piece of transfiguration, she would give him that. He began to push her, and she leaned back and closed her eyes. After a few moments she said, "I don't hear the lyrical sounds of my true love's voice gently wafting through the air."

"Oh, no," he said aloud. He began to sing, but his singing seriously sounded just like his speaking voice, only more monotone. "Nothing you can do can make me feel blue about my girl. Nothing you can say can tear me a way from my girl. She may not be a movie star, but when it comes to being happy, we are, there's not a girl today who can make me, something, something, something, my girl."

Hermione began to laugh hysterically. He stopped pushing. He was a bit peeved. He tried, at least.

"The song is 'My guy'," she laughed.

"So, I didn't think you would want to be called a guy," he said. She looked back at him.

"Don't you know any songs about girls?" she asked.

"Not Muggle songs. I know a cute limerick about a troll, a goblin and an elf, and I could make it a female elf, if you would like." He had to laugh, too. "Fine, I'm not your little poster boy," he conceded. He pulled on the swing to stop it completely. She stood up and touched his cheek.

"It's the thought that counts. You probably won't get through the list anyway, because there's no chance of rain tonight," she said. She moved over to the patio and sat on a chaise lounge.

"Scoot over, fatso," he said. He sat beside her. She moved so she was cradled in his arms, her head on his chest.

"Poster boy really does have a good singing voice," she said.

"Bully for him," Draco said. He didn't care if he had to burn the house down, that poster was being torn off the wall and permanently destroyed tonight! "I feel I rushed through those last two things, the singing and the swinging."

"That's fine, I don't think I could have kept doing them both together, because the swinging combined with the singing was making me nauseated," she said. He pulled her hair. She said, "Let's finish our game, if you can remember everything."

"Fine, I love your arms," he said. He brought his fingertips down her arm and back up. "Your breasts are tolerable, I suppose," he said, actually 'tweaking' one and making her squeal. "Your collarbone is just ripe for sucking," he said. His head went to the juncture between her neck and shoulder and he sucked the spot until she squirmed. He pulled her up on his lap, and she sat sideways.

"Your dimpled backside is perhaps my favourite part of your anatomy," he said. He moved his hand over her hip, and cupped her bum. He kissed her neck again and said, "Eyebrows, check, freckles, check, grin, double check." He kissed her mouth by tracing her lips with his tongue, and then he lightly bit her top lip, and then her bottom lip.

"I love your hands," he said. He held her hand up to his face, examined the palm, and then turned it over and looked at the top. He turned it back, palm side facing him, and he kissed her palm as sensually as he would have her lips, his mouth lingering over her flesh.

"And?" she said, breathlessly.

He looked up at her, his eyes clouded from desire, and he said, "Bloody hell, I forget what the hell you said for 'I'! It was something stupid, I remember."

She grinned and said, "If you don't remember, than I win!"

"Never!" he said with a mocked tone of righteous anger. He thought hard for a moment and said, "Give me a hint."

"It started with 'I'," she said.

He had to laugh. He tickled her ribs and she wiggled on his lap. "Give me a better hint."

"It's an adjective," she said.

"Give me a normal person's hint," he said.

"Do you want me to spell it for you?" she asked. She moved so she was sitting back beside him, her head back on his shoulder.

"Come on, give me a hint. I will buy you a car if you do," he said.

She looked up at him and said, "I can't believe you gave my dad that car! I can't believe you're that rich. Why didn't you tell me?"

"We've been married two weeks, when was I supposed to tell you?" he asked. "Does it matter?"

"No, it just would have been nice to know," she said, her eyes looking out over the yard. "I can't believe Harry has more money than you."

"He does indeed, if you don't count the money I will get someday when my old man, who is number three, kicks the buckle. I will definitely be number one, then."

"Harry is that rich?" she said, looking up at Draco.

"Makes you wish you had tried for him, huh?" he joked.

"Of course not," she said, suddenly angry.

"Joke, Hermione. It was a joke. I just don't see why he lives like he is indigent," Draco said.

"Harry grew up with nothing, so he knows what's important in life, and it's not money," she said.

He frowned. "Do you think I don't know what's important?"

"I know you do," she said seriously. "I didn't mean to imply otherwise, please, I mean it." She looked worried.

"Hell, Granger, I'm not angry." He stroked her hair. "Now, tell me what was the 'I'?"

"Draco!" she said. Then she was quiet for a moment and said, "I really don't remember!"

"We both lose! Yeah! I'm not a loser alone," he said.

They both turned from the chair when they heard the back door open. "Draco, Hermione, would you like to come in; we thought we could have drinks before bed." Hermione's mother shut the door.

"I'm having drinks out here, with you," he said in her ear. He kissed her cheek. She moved to the end of the chaise at the same time that he threw his legs over the side to stand. The whole chair went forward, throwing Hermione to the ground.

She yelled out, as the chair came forward, too, and landed on top of her.

He sucked in a breath when he saw her on the ground with the chair on top. He moved the chair off her body in a single swipe. She was on her hands and knees. He bent down and put his hand on her back. "Blimey, Hermione, I am so sorry, are you hurt?"

"Help me up," she said.

He helped her to stand, but when she tried to take a step, she faltered. "My knee, I hurt my knee," she said in with a wince. He pulled up a wrought iron chair and she sat down. He took her calf in his hands, and looked at her knee. It was swollen, but what was worse, there was a large gash and bloody was dribbling down her leg.

"What shall I do?" he asked.

She looked up at his concerned face and said, "Take a breath and calm down."

He took the flat of his hand and hit her on the side of her head. "I meant for you, Einstein."

"First, stop hitting me," she said, rubbing her head. "Second, carry me in the house and I will see if I can heal it myself."

He picked her up and as he walked to the door, he said, "It all works out, if I get to carry you around."

Her father came to the door and held it open. "What happened?"

"Your clumsy daughter fell out of a chair," Draco said.

"No, your stupid son-in-law got out of a chair before I was ready, causing me to fall," Hermione said. Draco sat her on the couch.

"She always was clumsy," Edward said to Draco.

Draco nodded and said, "I get that vibe."

At that moment, her mother and 'a guest' came walking in the living room from the foyer. "What happened?" her mother asked.

"Hermione hurt her knee," her dad answered.

"She always was clumsy," the guest, Ryan Summerset said.

Draco inwardly, and perhaps outwardly, cringed. He stood up, his full height, as the man entered the room. "Look who decided to join us for drinks," Phyllis said.

"Well, Mum," Hermione said nervously, "I kind of need to take care of my knee." She hoped her mother would understand what she meant.

"Do you need to go to Hospital?" Ryan asked. "I thought you were a doctor; just take care of it yourself." He laughed.

Her parents had told all their friends that Hermione was a 'physician', which was not far from the truth, seeing that she was a healer. Ryan walked over to Hermione and sat down next to her. He said, "It is awfully swollen, and might need a stitch or two, perhaps we should reschedule drinks for the next time you're in town."

"Wonderful plan, Brian," Draco said. He walked over to the man and yanked him off the couch. He pushed on his back, and headed him toward the door. He walked out to the foyer and opened the front door. "Bye, Bri," Draco said.

"It's Ryan, actually," the man said, still standing in the doorway connecting the foyer to the living room. He looked back over to Hermione and said, "Sorry about your knee." He told everyone (but Draco) goodbye and he left.

As soon as Ryan left, Hermione asked for her wand. She healed her knee, although it was still somewhat swollen, and a bruise had already started to form. The quartet had their drinks, when Draco, spying the piano in the adjoining room, said, "You supposedly play, Granger, so give me song or two."

She rolled her eyes, because she knew that would start her parents. It did, "She's wonderful," and "She's so talented," and "She started when she was five," and "If she wanted she could have gone professional."

The truth was somewhere in the middle of all those statements, but her parents were proud of her, and she could not fault them for that. She hobbled over to the piano and played "Hungarian Rhapsody" by Liszt. When she finished, her parents actually applauded, which made her face turn red. Draco thought it was sweet that her parents supported her. He walked over to the piano bench, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. He said in her ear, "You are so loved."

"I know, they are absolutely gushing," she said back. She turned around on the bench, and Draco smiled.

"I meant by me," he said.

She had to smile in return. He took her hand and they trotted off to the couch. They sat down side by side. Edward asked, "Draco, do you want to see pictures from when Hermione was young."

"No, Dad, he doesn't," she answered for him.

"Maybe I do," he said, giving her a mocked annoyed glare.

"Maybe it will take a few hours because they have roughly twenty picture albums," she said.

"Hey, Ed, maybe next time," Draco said to her father.

"Actually, I think your father and I will head upstairs," Phyllis said. She walked over and kissed Hermione's cheek, and then cupping Draco's face, she kissed his forehead. Draco was shocked. "We'll have breakfast early, because we have all sorts of things planned for tomorrow," she told the pair.

Hermione's father waved goodnight, and the Grangers left the room.

Hermione leaned her head on Draco's shoulder, and he put his arm around her. "Do you like them so far?" she asked.

"They are affable." He was joking. He thought they were delightful.

"Affable?" she asked. "We aren't playing the A, B, C, game again," she said. "They are more than Affable."

"I know, it was a joke," he said. "I remember the 'I', if I may continue from earlier?"

"Sure, what was it?" she asked, as she turned on the couch to look at him. He pulled her legs over so they were across his lap, and her back was against the sofa arm. He said, "It was icky little, cute, tongue, which I think is an awful 'I', so I am changing it back to 'eyelashes', and your 'jaunty' little lips, for 'J'." He kissed her lips.

"Fine, change my 'I', I don't care. It's my turn," she said. "I love your arms, your breasts, your collarbone, and your dimples." She stopped to think for a moment. "Oh, yes, your eyebrows, not to be confused with eyelashes for 'I', your freckles, your grin, your hands." She took one hand in hers and kissed his fingertips. "Your icky little eyelashes." He gave her a dirty look and she said, "That way we use both our suggestions, and your 'jealousy' at Ryan will replace, 'jaunty little lips' for 'J', that way I can use 'Kissable lips', for 'K'."

"Brian," he said.

"I think I know his name, and it's Ryan," she answered.

"Brian. I am one hundred percent sure he said his name was Brian," he answered.

"I should know, he was the first boy I ever kissed, and his name is Ryan," she said, with a sly smile.

"You kissed that wanker?" he asked, leaning toward her.

She put her hands up on his chest and said, "Yes, but to be honest, we were both eight, and it was on the cheek, and I think I made him cry after I kissed him, because he ran home."

Draco laughed and said, "You were the pursuer, huh? Just like you pursed me."

"You waited for me outside the chapel, if you recall. I was going to go home and get drunk on vodka and fat on ice cream," she reminded.

"Oh, yes, I do recall that." He turned slightly on the couch to look at her. He reached over and touched her lips. He touched the eyelashes of her left eye and leaned over and kissed her eye, and then placed small kisses down her face. "Have you ever snogged on the living room couch while your parents were upstairs sleeping?"

"No," she answered honestly.

"You're missing out, then," he said. He pushed her down, and moved to lie next to her, with his back against the sofa back and her next to the edge. He said, "Part of the fun of snogging with your parents upstairs is trying to be quiet, not make any noise as to cause suspicion. It's all about covert operations." He put his hand on her stomach and kissed her chest, above the opening of her blouse.

"Covert Operations, my foot," she said.

He looked up from his work, and raised an eyebrow. "I shall show you." He kissed her, wetting her own lips with his tongue, before plunging his tongue into her mouth. His right hand, which was the only free hand, as his left hand was propping him up on his side, went down to the hem of her skirt. He began to pull it up her legs slowly.

She was half on her back, half on her side, and felt like she was going to fall off the couch at any moment. His mouth was still on hers, and she pushed her body into his, out of desire, but also, so she wouldn't fall off the couch. He reached to the waistband of her summer, silk, skirt and pulled her blouse out, so he could slide his hand up her stomach. He gently cupped one breast, and circled the nipple with his finger. He moved his hand back down to her thighs, as her skirt was already bunched up near the top of her hips, he ran his hand lightly up and down one thigh, and then the other, before he put it between them to try to pry open her legs. He teasingly ran his hand over her lower abdomen, under her skirt. He reached up suddenly and unbuttoned her blouse. She pulled his black polo over his head.

This was what she liked about being with Draco. Even though they had only been married two weeks, they had made love everyday, and everyday it felt different, new, daring. There was a lot to discover about the other, and they had a lifetime to discover it. Draco bent down to kiss her cleavage, and his left hand held her firmly by the hip. They heard the sound of someone on the stairs. He reached on the floor, for his shirt, threw it over him, as she scrambled to button her blouse. They both sat up quickly.

Her mother poked her head in the room. They both looked over their shoulders at her, as they sat side by side on the couch. She said, "Don't forget to lock up the house, Hermione. Goodnight you two." She walked back upstairs.

Draco and Hermione looked at each other and started to laugh. "So much for covert operations," Hermione said.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX


	6. Chapter 6

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Chapter 6 –**

"Draco, will you do me a favour, and make sure all the doors are locked," Hermione asked. He stood up and she added, "Use the locks, not magic."

"Weird, using locks to lock doors," he said, more to himself than to her. She started to walk slowly up the stairs, her knee still throbbing, when she decided to wait for him. He locked all the doors and came to the bottom of the stairs.

"We aren't going to bed yet are we? It's only nine o'clock, for Merlin's sake," he whined.

"I want to change my clothes," she explained. She waited to see if he would come up with her.

"I'm fine, I'll wait for you down here," he said, heading back to the living room. She frowned. 'Fine', she thought, 'be that way'. She went up the stairs by herself. She walked down the hallway to her bedroom and opened her suitcase. She had a mid length, light blue summer nightgown packed. She removed her blouse and her skirt, when she suddenly heard a small tapping noise, at even intervals, at her window. She thought at first it sounded like an owl tapping. She went to the window and threw up the sash. A pebble hit her right in the eye.

"OUCH!" she cried out in pain. She sat on the bed, holding her eye, her good eye immediately watering also. "Oh my gosh!" she said. Draco came running up the stairs.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Someone stupid hit me in the eye with a pebble!" she whispered loudly.

He was that stupid person, and he knew she knew it. "None of the things from the list are going right," he complained. He sat beside her on the bed and pulled her hand down. Her right eye was shut tight. She had actual tears running down both cheeks. He started to laugh.

She pushed him off the bed.

From the floor he said, "You have to see the humour in the situation," he argued. "I didn't know your window didn't have a screen in it." He continued to laugh.

She stepped over him, grabbed her nightgown, uttered a profanity, and went to change in the bathroom. He took out the list. He used his wand and crossed out numbers 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, and 10. He thought he was doing pretty well. Maybe he could finish by tonight. He looked at the list for a moment longer.

1) Throw pebbles at her window at night

2) Let her fall asleep in your arms

3) Sing to her, no matter how awful it sounds

4) Get her mad at you, and then kiss her

5) Give her piggyback rides

6) Push her on the swings

7) Tell her she looks beautiful

8) When she is sad, stay on the phone with her, even if she is not saying anything

9) Look into her eyes and smile

10) Kiss her on the forehead

11) Slow dance with her even when there is no music

12) Kiss her in the rain

13) And, finally, when you fall in love with her, tell her that you love her.

He decided that number 13 was a given, and would be the easiest to do. With her knee injured, number 11 might be hard to accomplish. Damn, he could have done number 5 when she hurt her knee, but he forgot. He would do number '2' tonight. How the hell could he do number '8', when he didn't have a mobile phone? He promised her he would get one, but he had not done so yet. Well, she had a mobile phone in her purse. He ran downstairs and got her phone out of her purse. He looked at the menu. Her parents' number was the first one listed. Good, he would call her tonight, on her mobile phone, calling her parents' house phone, and talk to her, even if they were in the same room. He decided number 12 might have to be forfeited, because there was not a cloud in the sky…unless, yes, he just got an idea how he could do that one as well.

She came out of the bathroom, limping, with a red eye, and not even looking at him. He stuck her phone in his pants pocket and took off his shoes and socks. He said, "I really, really am sorry about your eye, Hermione. I wanted to be all romantic, and when you threw open the window, I was going to repeat Romeo's speech to you, when Juliet was on the balcony."

"Yes, I am sure you were," she said with condescension. She sat on the bed and began to put lotion on her arms and legs.

Draco said, "Keep the window open and in about fifteen seconds, come to the window."

"Why, do you want to throw a twig and get the other eye?" she asked sarcastically.

"Just do it Granger," he said with mocked disdain.

She smiled and went to the window. She leaned out when she saw Draco underneath.

Draco stood under the window and said:

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east and Hermione is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.

It is my lady, Oh, it is my love!

She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that?

Her eye discourses, I will answer it.

I am too bold: 'tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes,

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?  
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,  
As daylight doth a lamp. Her eyes in heaven,

Would through the airy region stream so bright,

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand,

Oh that I were a glove upon that hand,  
That I might touch that cheek!"

Hermione continued to smile. She was rightfully impressed, and perhaps more in love with him than she had ever been. She said, "Stay right there, I'm coming down."

She slipped out the bedroom door, and down the stairs. She went out the backdoor and found him in the back garden, beside her little playhouse. He was leaning casually against the side of the house.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, looking at his fingernails, nonchalantly.

"Yes, well, I used to live here, what's your excuse," she asked.

"I'm in love with the lady of the house," he said.

"My mum?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Not my dog, because it's a boy," she said.

"Try again," he said, creeping closer to her.

"You couldn't mean me, for we were once enemies," she said. He grabbed her hand and while she remained in one place, he twirled around her.

"And just like Romeo and Juliet, we were once enemies, and now we're lovers," he said. He stood in front of her and put his arms around her waist.

"Let's hope we don't end up with the same outcome as Romeo and Juliet," she said.

"That wouldn't be good," he agreed. He began to sway back and forth. He might as well get 'dancing without music' crossed off the list as well. He kissed her neck. He said in her ear, "I love you more than the moon and the stars and the sun combined. I will love you until the last breath leaves my body, and even after that, until my body returns to this earth as ashes."

"You're as eloquent as Mister Shakespeare," she said.

They continued to move back and forth, with the silent evening as their music. Draco said, "Tell me how much you love me, Hermione."

"Where do I begin?" she asked. She put her head on his chest and for some inexplicable reason, she began to cry, though she tried to keep it at bay. "I love you as long as the day, as long as a year, as long as an eternity. I love you wider than the earth, and higher than the sky. Oh, help me, I love you more than I thought possible, and more than I dared to dream." She really began really to weep.

"Hey," he said. He stopped moving and put his hand under her chin. "Look at me, Granger." She looked up in her husband's eyes. "What is it?"

"I keep thinking these past two weeks have been a lie, a ruse, pure folly. I'm waiting to wake up. I'm waiting for you to figure out that I'm a fraud, and that you don't really love me, and for you finally to come to your senses and leave me." She cried harder, with her hands now covering her face.

He was confused. He pulled her arms down and said, "You know what, you just explained exactly how I feel. I'm worried you'll wake up each morning, and run and hide, because you fear you've made a colossal mistake. I'm never leaving you, Hermione. Never." He kissed her so sweetly, she thought she might melt.

He said, "I have a plan on how to execute another thing from the list, but you have to do something first."

"What?" she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

He walked over to her playhouse, and pulled out an old child's umbrella he found inside. It had 'Snoopy' on it. He said, "I remember seeing this in here earlier, and it gave me this idea." He opened the umbrella and handed it to her. He said, "Now, don't drop it."

He went over to the garden hose, and turned it on, with the nozzle turned to 'spray'. He used magic to keep it levitated and he pointed it up in the air, so that the water 'rained' down on her. He dashed under the umbrella with her. He said, "Kiss me, Hermione."

His right hand went to the soft skin of her neck; his eyes became lost in hers. The scent of her, the alluring way she looked at him, made him feel heady with excitement. The fingers of his other hand went lightly down her spine. His mouth was close to hers, but had not yet claimed her. His body ached for her, the way an addict ached for their next fix. She was his drug. She was his nourishment. She alone could quench his thirst. He dragged out the moment he would kiss her. She put one of her hands up to his hair, and raised her head. He lowered his.

He captured her mouth, and his hand came to rest on her neck. He felt her pulse quicken as they kissed. Without thinking, she dropped the umbrella, and put her other hand on his neck as well. The feel of her lips, her skin, her breath, was too much for him to handle. He yearned for her, longed for her. His mouth on hers felt like it belonged there, and nowhere else. His teeth nipped at her lips, playfully biting and sucking at the same time.

There they stood, cold water from the garden hose spraying down on them, locked in each other's arms, kissing. Who would have thought it possible? He finally lifted his face from hers, and she immediately touched his lips with her fingertips. He walked over to the hose, turned it off, and said, "That was the best thing from the list yet."

"I agree," she said. He looked at her wet form in her silk gown, which was almost transparent due to the 'rain'. She looked down and laughed when she saw what he was looking at, and said, "You have your wand, please dry me."

"I like this look," he said.

"You've already hurt my knee and poked my eye, do you want me to get sick from the fake rain?" she asked.

"No one gets sick from hose water, but if you insist," he said. He dried her and then himself. He turned to her and said, "Hop on, and I can give you a piggyback ride back inside the house."

She giggled and said, "You and that blasted list. Fine, turn around." He turned his back to her, and bent down. She hopped on. He put both hands behind him, and grasped her knees. They started in the back door, and he had to let go of one leg to open the door. He started in the doorway, and forgot to duck down, and she hit her head, hard, on the top of the doorframe.

"OWW!" she cried, jumping off his back. He turned quickly. She had her hand on the side of her head and he put his hand over hers. "Is it your plan to kill me before the weekend is over? That's not on the bloody list!" She hit his hand away and sat down at the kitchen table. He shut and locked the door, and then went to the icebox for ice. He put some ice in a towel and gave it to her. He sat down next to her.

When she looked up in his eyes, she saw how sorry he looked, even though he had yet to apologize, and she felt badly for yelling at him. The reason he had yet to apologize was because he was in a state of shock. He WAS going to kill her before the weekend was over, at this rate. She finally said, "You do realize that I'm a pauper, and if you kill me, you will inherit nothing, nil, nada."

He came out of his chair, on his knees, and put his head down in her lap and held her around the waist. "I'm sorry. Everything I do that is romantic is discounted each time I injury you, isn't it?"

"I still think you're slightly ahead, but only by a point or two," she said, rubbing his hair with her hand. She put the towel with ice on the table and said, "Let's go back to the couch, and finish our Alphabetic game. Surely you can't hurt me on the couch."

"I wouldn't count on it," he said. He put the towel and ice in the sink. He said, "Shall I carry you? I promise not to drop you, hit your head on the door jam, ram your shoulder in the wall, or any other bad thing."

"I'll walk, thank you, but you can hold my hand," she said. She reached up for him and he took her hand.

He sat on one end of the couch, and as if on purpose, she sat all the way on the other end. He frowned. He patted the space beside him. She shook her head no. He patted it again. She bought her legs up and put her feet on his thighs. She lay back, with her head on a fluffy pillow and her knees bent. He leaned down and said, "I can see your knickers."

"I don't care."

He turned so he was on the opposite end of the couch, facing her. He put his legs out on the outside of her body, and crossed his ankles. She stretched out her legs and threw them over his. She said, "Do you remember whose turn it was?"

"I think it was mine, because you replaced my 'J' with 'Jealousy' and then you said, 'kissable lips' for K, but I think we will use that for 'K' and 'L', because I want 'M'," Draco explained.

"No, you can't keep cheating," she said.

He started to rub her feet and he said, "Show me the official rules."

"There aren't any official rules, but still, you're cheating," she said.

"I don't believe I am," he said back. He tickled her feet.

"Stop! My knee hurts," she winced.

"I'm not tickling your knee," he said, but he stopped. "So, since you can't produce a rulebook to this little game, I shall continue."

"But you can't just make up rules as you go along," she said.

"But I can, and I shall," he declared. "I want 'M'."

"Fine, take the stupid 'M'!" she proclaimed, "But, after that, no more cheating!"

"Okay, arms, breasts, collarbone, dimples, these are all things I love about you, wifey-poo. Eyebrows, freckles, grin, hands, are also on the list," he said. "Icky little eyelashes, jealousy of old boyfriends and poster boys…"

She interrupted, "Hey, his name is Justin, and that starts with a 'J'!"

"Who cares!" he said, with annoyance. "You messed me up. Where was I?"

"Justin, for 'J'." She smiled.

He brought her foot up to his mouth and bit the inside of it fairly hard. She kicked his groin with the other foot. He winced slightly, and let go of her foot. She kept her legs draped over his and he said, "Jaunty lips, for 'J', yes, we are going back to my first suggestion, Kissable lips, for 'K' and 'L', and milky white thighs for 'M'." He walked his fingers slowly up her right leg, leaning forward. His hand crept up to her thigh and squeezed tight.

She hit his hand away and said, "We are straying away from the original game, although I know rules mean nothing to you, but we started with body parts, arms, breasts, collarbones, and now we have moved to adjectives."

"There you go with your big city vocabulary again," he joked.

"Well, I'm only using body parts from now on, because unlike you, I don't cheat," she said.

"Good luck when you get to 'Q', then," he said.

"Laughs on you, pretty boy, 'Q' will be all yours. Now I love your arms, your breasts, your collarbone, your dimples, your eyebrows, your freckles, your grin, your hands, your icky eyelashes, your jaunty jealousy of Ryan and Justin, (she had to laugh, he had to frown), your kissable lips, your milky white thighs and last but not least, your nose."

"NOSE! How insanely easy! NOSE! A five year old would have said nose!" he proclaimed. "The smartest witch of our age, indeed."

"I don't care what you say!" she said, folding her arms in front of her.

He continued to stroke her calf and thought for a moment. He finally said, "I can't think of a single, 'O'. Why do I get all the hard one?"

"Concede then, and I will be declared the winner," she said with a smile.

"Never!" he said back.

She moved slightly closer and put one foot in his lap, on his groin, and said, "I think I have the 'hard one' right here. Concede, and we can go upstairs and explore some more covert operations, which, by the way, is my favourite new phrase for sex."

He removed her foot and said, "I will think of an 'O', just give me a minute."

"You would rather continue the game than have sex?" she asked.

"Who are you kidding? We will have sex anyway, so there's no need for me to concede," he said.

"Arse!" she said.

"Bossy!" He laughed.

"Airhead!" She laughed back.

"I thought of one, and I refuse to continue repeating all the other ones first," he said.

"But that's the game!" she said. "It's a memory game. To see if you can remember everything the other person said."

"Who made up this stupid game?" he asked.

"Well, when I was young, my mum and I played, but sometimes we would start it by saying, 'I went to the market and I bought an, apple, etc,' and other times we would say, 'I went to the park and I played with Abby, Brian,' etc," Hermione explained. "We would use different themes. It might be, 'We went to the zoo and saw…', or a whole array of different possibilities. The point was trying to remember the things."

He rolled his eyes and said. "See, I knew his name was Brian." She looked confused, as she had forgotten she said that. He climbed up her body, as she lay on the couch. He leaned over her and kissed her forehead and said, "Arm and Breasts, they are the best." He kissed her cheeks, one than the other, and said, "Collarbone and Dimples, be glad I didn't say pimple." She laughed. He lay down flat on her, careful to put his legs on each side of hers, because of her knee. "Eyebrows and Freckles, Hermione is speckled," and he kissed her nose and her eyes.

He kissed her mouth long and hard before he said, "Grin and hands, I am glad you're not a man." He kissed her chest and then one of her breast, over her thin nightgown. He felt her nipple harden to a point. He said, "Eyelashes, Jealousy, and Kissable Lips. These are the things that make my heart skip." She rolled her eyes and he said, "Give a bloke a break, Granger. At least I'm trying." He moved so he was on the outside edge of the couch, and she moved so her back was up against the sofa cushions. He kissed her neck. "Your milky white thighs and your cute little nose, are two things I love the most." His hand traveled up the outside of her right hip, down to her thigh. He leaned over and kissed her nose again.

"Now, for 'O', I love the way you say, "Oh, oh, oh," when you're climaxing during sex," he said. He put his body over hers, his hand went between her legs, and he tried to demonstrate. She pushed him off her.

He landed on the floor.

She bent down, and looked at him and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you so hard, but I don't want my parents to hear us. Pick something else for 'O'."

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_(Author's Note: Remember, unlike the first story, this sequel is rated 'M', but I promise it is a softer 'M', and I won't get too explicit,, for the younger readers. If you want explicit, go read "A Special Election!" I had a reader tell me that they stopped reading because I had a sex scene in every chapter, but there were 45 chapters, so I think that was a slight exaggeration.)_


	7. Chapter 7

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**Chapter 7 –**

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you so hard, but I don't want my parents to hear us. Pick something else for 'O'," Hermione told him. He pulled her down on top of him.

"No, I picked that, and I think I want a demonstration," he said. He rolled with her so she was on the bottom. He pulled up her gown just as they heard footsteps once again on the stairs.

They both lay very still, and very quiet, on the floor in front of the couch. Hermione's mother said, "Hermione, are you in here?" Draco put his hand over her mouth. She shut her eyes tight, willing her mother to please go back upstairs. Draco was still on top of her, and her nightgown was up around her waist.

Phyllis Granger walked in the living room, the back of the couch toward the entryway, and turned off the overhead light with the switch on the wall. She said, "Honesty, leaving the lights on, do they think electricity is free?" She turned off the lights in the foyer as well, and walked back upstairs.

Draco whispered, "That was close."

"Yes," Hermione agreed.

"Although, I don't know why we hid, we are married after all," he said, as he sat up. He straddled her, as she stayed on the floor.

"Still, one doesn't want one's mother to catch one in a compromising condition, does one?" she said.

He frowned at her and said, "I don't know what you just said. Are you drunk?"

"Get off me," she said, pushing on his chest.

"No, I have to think of another 'O' apparently, and I think better when I'm on top of you," he said with an evil grin. "Orgasm starts with 'O'."

"Draco Malfoy, get off!" she said, whispering loudly.

"Or what, you will whisper at me?" he asked. He began to tickle her ribs. She laughed, and hit at his hands. "Whisper, Hermione, come on, let's hear you whisper!"

She continued to laugh, and said, "Get off!"

They didn't hear her mother come back downstairs, but they did see the light turn back on, so they both froze, as Hermione's mother walked around to the front of the couch. She stood at their heads. Hermione looked up at her mother from the floor, and Draco, who was still straddling Hermione, and who had his hands under her gown, looked up at her as well.

Her arms were crossed, and she was tapping her foot.

"Hermione Jean Granger! You are an adult, and you are acting like a schoolgirl! Your father and I are trying to get some sleep, and I would suggest you two do the same, because we have a big day planned tomorrow and it is late!"

Draco looked at the clock over the mantel and said, "It's 9:30, Mrs. Granger."

Hermione shut her eyes. Oh, no. He didn't know not to sass back to her mum. He would find out the hard way.

"Listen to me, Draco Malfoy, I won't have any of your talking back, do you understand?" she said, pointing her finger at him.

He crawled off Hermione and sat back on the couch. Hermione sat next to him. "Yes, Mrs. Granger," he said, however, he snickered. Hermione's eyebrows knitted together. He didn't know a hell storm was in store for him if he kept it up. Her mother wasn't to be played with, at all!

Phyllis walked up to Draco and said, "Is something funny, young man? Do you think it's funny to keep people awake? You are a guest in this house, so I expect, no, I demand respect! You will keep it down. I can't tell two adults to go to bed, but you will keep it down, and not laugh at me in my own house! DO YOU UNDERSTAND, YOUNG MAN?"

"Yes." He couldn't even look her in the eye. He was afraid. She could give Lucius a run for his money.

"And if you two intend to have relations, I would appreciate you do it in the confines of your bedroom, with your door locked!" She looked at Hermione. Hermione nodded.

"Very good. I love you both, now keep it down. I hate to send your father down here, but I will if I have to, now goodnight," she said. She walked over and kissed Draco's forehead, and then Hermione's forehead and said, "I will turn the light back off, but get to bed soon."

She turned off the light, as promised, and Hermione and Draco sat in silence, in the dark, for many long minutes. Draco finally turned to Hermione and said, "Your mum is scary."

"She has her moments," Hermione said, smiling.

"What would have happened if she sent your dad down here?" he asked.

"He would have had a right laugh at her, and made a joke, and then gone upstairs and told her that he yelled at us," Hermione said. "My mum's the boss around here."

"I hope you don't think you're going to be the boss in our family," he said and smiled.

She laughed and poked her finger at his rib, causing him to chuckle. "Hell, Malfoy, I'm already the boss."

"Are not."

"Am, too."

He sighed. He leaned back on the couch. "You mum is still very pretty, and earlier I was thinking, 'I hope Hermione turns out like her', but I think I might change that wish."

"Yeah." Hermione agreed, but could say no more. She loved her mother. She was a strict person, but she was also open, and giving, and gave Hermione her love of literature, and art, and Hermione could talk to her about anything. She turned back to Draco and said, "I love her a lot, you know. I hope you will see that good side of her before the weekend is over. I really do."

"I know," he said, as he pulled her into his embrace. "I will buy her a car. That will make her happy. Maybe a pretty silver Volvo. What do you think?"

"My mother can't be bought," Hermione said. She pushed away from him again. She said, "Let's go get some beer from the kitchen, and go down to my dad's den, in the basement."

"Beer and basement, sounds good to me," Draco said, standing up. They went to the kitchen, and Hermione grabbed two beers. Draco said, "Aren't you getting any for you?"

"These are enough for us both," she said. He frowned and grabbed two more, just in case. They went down to the basement, where her father had his little recreation room. It was decorated in the colours of his favourite football team. It had a billiard table, and neon signs. It had a bar, and a black leather couch.

"My mum hates this room," Hermione said with a slight laugh.

Draco said, "I love this room!" They both sat on the couch, and started to drink their beers. Draco held his up to hers and clanged it and said, "Cheers, Hermione."

"Cheers, Draco," she said. "Do you think you will still be able to get through the list by tonight?"

"Maybe not tonight, but before we leave here," he said. He remembered her phone at that moment, and he thought he would get that one out of the way. He took it out of his pocket.

"What are you doing with my phone?" she asked.

"Number 8 on the list. Now, get all sad, so I can call you and we can stay on the phone, and not talk." He opened up her phone.

"If you have my phone, how will you call me?" she asked.

"I will call the house phone; I see one over there on the table by the couch." He nodded his head in the direction of the phone.

"Don't you think the phone ringing at this late will cause some friction with my mother?" she pointed out.

He hadn't thought of that. "Oh well," he said, "You aren't sad right now anyway, and I also think something's wrong, because your phone won't turn on."

"Give it to me," she said. She put her beer down and grabbed her phone. It wouldn't turn on. It was wet as well. "Draco Malfoy, did you have this in your pocket when it 'rained' on us?"

"Yes," he said slowly.

"You got it wet!" she complained. She shook the phone, and then threw it across the room. "Well, I am pretty damn sad now, because you broke my phone."

"I'll buy you another." He shrugged.

She glared at him and said, "Is that your solution to everything, buying things for people."

"Pretty much," he answered.

"Your incorrigible," she said, with a laugh. "So, let's finish our game, and it's my turn, right?"

"I'm tired of the game, and you keep cheating," he whined. He fell back on the couch, with his head on the sofa arm, and his feet on her lap this time. She rubbed his leg under his jeans.

"Come on, let's finish it. I want to win," she said, taking a big drink of beer.

"You won't win, I will," he said. "I have a good memory."

"Really?" she asked. "Fine, let me finish the whole thing, adding all the letters we haven't named yet, and if you can repeat them, verbatim, you win, and I will do one thing you ask of me, but only one. Verbatim, Malfoy, no cheating!"

"Okay and what if you win?" he asked.

"If I win, you have to take off all your clothes, and accidentally go into my parents' room, completely naked, and say, 'sorry, I thought this was the other bathroom'." She laughed after she told him that.

He grinned wickedly and said, "Everyone thinks you're sweet and nice, and la de da, but I know you, you are an evil one. You're on, sweetheart, but if I win, you have to take your pretty boy poster down and burn it in your backyard!"

"Deal!" she said. She leaned forward and shook his hand. He sat up. They turned and faced each other. She put her beer down on the coffee table, and he did likewise. She said, "Listen closely, because you have to repeat it exactly as I say it!"

"Bring it on, sister," he said with a grin.

She stood up, and went in front of the couch. She said, "Get our beers." He picked up their drinks and she moved the coffee table out of the way. She took the beers from him, and placed them on the bar behind her. She stood in front of him and said, "I love you for your arms, the way they squeeze me tight. I love your for your breasts, which bring me sweet delight." She started to dance around lightly, and he wondered if she was drunk after three drinks.

"I love you for your collarbone, and your dimples, too." She walked over to him, straddled his lap, and kissed him long on the mouth. His arms went around her, and tried to keep her in place as she made to move off him.

"I love your eyebrows," she said, putting one leg up on the sofa, and moving her hand up and down her leg. "I love your freckles, your grin and your hands." She moved her legs down and took her nightgown off and stood there in only her knickers and her bra.

"Granger, are you drunk, because I like you like this!" he said.

She turned so her back was toward him, and she looked over her shoulder and said, "Sh, no talking."

He nodded in assent.

"I love your eyelashes," she blew him a kiss over her shoulder, "your jaunty jealousy of Justin," a kiss over the other shoulder, "and your kissable, lips!" She moved toward him and leaned down and kissed his mouth again. He reached for her breasts, and she pushed his hand away. She walked behind the bar.

"I love your milky white thighs, when they touch mine," she said. She reached around and took her bra off. She turned so her back was to him and she threw it over her shoulder. He caught it. She turned around, bare breasted, and threw her knickers toward him. He caught them, also. She was behind the bar, so he couldn't see anything, but seriously, this was the best damn game he had ever played in his life. "I love your nose, when it nuzzles my neck, and the way you make me go, 'oh, oh, OH! Draco!' when we're having sex." She shut her eyes when she said that, and her hands went to her breasts when she said the 'oh' part and he melted where he sat.

"I love your pinky fingers, because I refuse to go to the obvious and say 'penis', I love your quiet demeanor as you watch me right now, the way you look at me with desire." She ducked down behind the bar. He sat upright on the couch. 'Come back,' he thought.

She popped her head back up and said, "I love the rise and fall of your chest, as you watch me with longing. I love your smile, as your eyes dance with desire. I love your teeth, as they bite down gently on my neck, right here," and she pointed to her neck. She walked slowly from around the bar, and now stood in her total glory right in front of him. He had never wanted her more.

"I love the unusual way you talk," she approached him slowly, "the very nice way you make love to me," she was an arm's length away, "the whine in your voice when you don't get your way," she stopped right in front of him.

He looked up at her and he knew one thing. If she didn't hurry up and say the 'X, Y and Z', he would fall apart.

"I love the fact that you have both an X and a Y chromosome, because I can use that for X and Y." She looked down at him and he reached out for her, but she slapped his hand away.

"Wait, there's more," she said. "And last but not least, I love your zeal for life, and the way you make me feel more alive than anyone ever has in my entire life. I love you, Draco Malfoy. Now, can you repeat what I just said?"

"Hell, no," he said softly. He stood up so that he was right in front of her. His fingers reached out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her right up next to his body. He bent his head and whispered, "You definitely win, Granger." He crashed his mouth down on hers, and put his arms around her, lifting her up slightly, and he walked her backwards to the couch.

He fell back down on the couch, her body on top of his. His mouth was still on hers, his hands on her back. Her chest was pressed against his. She lifted her head and helped him removed his shirt. He kissed her neck and her shoulder, and somehow, he wasn't sure how, he removed his pants.

He rolled them over, so he was on top, and he entered her swiftly. His body was no longer his own, it was 'theirs', if that made any sense. He lifted his head long enough to look in her eyes. He bit down on his lip, and tried to remain quiet, because he really, really, didn't want Mrs. Granger to come down right now.

He stopped biting his own lip long enough to bite hers. He kissed his way down her neck to her chest and back up again. Her breathing became shallow, as she clutched at his shoulders. He licked between her breasts, and her legs came up around his hips.

Thank goodness, the couch was large, but it was also somewhat slippery, so Draco took a gamble and rolled off the couch, landing on the carpeted floor, while still inside her, and she was now on top. Her skin glistened, and it was so soft to his touch. She trembled and began to breath harder still. He had to slow her down, because he wanted it to last. He rolled them again, so he could set the pace.

Her stomach muscles tighten, and her hips rose from the floor, and he drove into her with all his might and will. He licked the side of her neck, and she gasped. His hand went around to her hip, and he drove in harder yet. He couldn't push in hard or fast enough. Her soft, mellow cries soon tightened his groin muscles and he knew he was going to explode. Waves crashed around them both, as the friction they created sent them into a blinding, fiery crescendo. He fought for control, but in the very end, he had to give in. She won, damn her, she won.

His hands went up to her hair, and he pulled it slightly as he let his final release wash over them both. She joined him right after, her fingernails running lightly down his back. He lay beside her, on the floor, and said, "You are more beautiful than you have a right to be. I love you more each day, and each time I'm with you. How did I get so lucky to have you for my wife?"

She merely hummed. He put his head on her stomach, and his hand on her leg. "This is what marriage is. This, being together, loving each other, every day, in everyway, don't you agree?" he said.

She pushed him off her and said, "Yeah sure, whatever you say. Are you going to go up to my parents' bedroom now, or later?"

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	8. Chapter 8

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**Chapter 8-**

Hermione stood up and pulled her nightgown over her head. She bent down and picked up her underwear and bra. Draco remained on the floor, propped up on his elbow, and watched her. What the bloody hell did she mean by that statement?

"You don't seriously think I am going to go to your parents' room, naked, do you?" Draco asked disbelievingly.

Hermione bent down and picked up his shirt, his slacks and his boxers. She started up the basement stairs.

"GRANGER!" he said harshly, sitting up.

"I'm going for a shower. Come join me after you visit my parents."

"HERMIONE!" he said, now standing, as naked as the day he was born.

She was halfway up the stairs with his clothing, and she turned and said, "Are you a man of your word, or what?"

"First, you gave me a tour, today, remember? Your parents know that I know where their bedroom is! Second, I won't do it!" He started toward her.

She said, "Would you really have made me take my JT poster down?"

"Your what?" he asked.

"My poster! Would you have made me take it down, if you had won?" she asked.

Well, she had him there, because of course he would have. He could lie and tell her he wouldn't have, but she would know he was lying. The longer he thought about it, the closer to the basement door she walked. She was soon all the way upstairs. She looked down at him and said, "Tell you what, Draco. You will fulfill your end of the bargain just by walking up two flights of stairs, and down the hallway to my room naked, okay?"

He thought that was reasonable. She turned and walked through the kitchen. She smiled at her father, who she saw there when she first walked up. She laughed as she walked by and said, "Goodnight, Dad."

Edward was leaning against the sink, drinking some milk and having some crackers. Draco walked up the basement stairs, completely nude, and froze when he reached the top.

Mr. Granger completely lost it, he laughed so hard. Draco said, "Goodnight, Sir." He walked with as much dignity as he could muster, through the kitchen, to the entryway, and up the stairs. He reached the top as Mrs. Granger stood outside her door, talking to Hermione.

"Help me," Draco said, as he saw them when he rounded the stairs.

Hermione leaned over the upstairs banister and said, "I just told my mother goodnight. Don't you want to tell her goodnight, too?"

He froze on the stairs. Edward walked by him and said, "I knew when I saw Hermione walking up the basement stairs with your clothes she was up to no good." He laughed again; patted Draco's back and walked on up the stairs. He walked down the hall and said, "Go tell Draco goodnight, Phyllis."

Draco looked like he was about to be sick.

Hermione was biting her bottom lip so hard, to keep from laughing, that she was causing herself actual pain, but it was worth it. Then she had a thought…pay back was a bitch. What if he pulled a similar stunt with her at his parents' house? She put her hand out to stop her mother and said, "No, Mum, just go on to bed." She turned to Draco and said, "I'll meet you down in the living room."

He nodded and _ran_ down the stairs. Hermione's mother took the two steps needed so that she could look over the railing, and she saw Draco's bare bottom as he ran down the stairs. She looked at Hermione and said, "What in the world are you doing to that poor young man, you bad girl?" She laughed, pointed her finger and said, "Get to bed, and get him some clothes!" Her parents went into their room and shut the door.

Hermione smiled and ran back down the stairs. Draco was standing in the middle of the room, looking almost as magnificent as Michelangelo's David. She threw his pants at him. She kept the rest of his clothes in her hand. She said, "How angry are you?"

"Did your mum know I was naked?" he asked.

"No," she had to lie.

"Then I'm not that angry, actually," he said as he pulled on his pants. "Although I'm a bit peeved that your dad saw me in the buff, and he laughed at me."

"He wasn't laughing at your body, he was laughing at your predicament, and I promise you that. No one would ever laugh at your body," she said. "I promise it's a wondrous thing."

"Don't sweet talk me," he scolded. "I do need to take a shower now, so I'm heading up to your bathroom." He passed her and acted as if he was passing her by, when he suddenly grabbed her around the waist and he kissed her hard. Then he said, "Wait and worry about what I will do to get back at you." He laughed the whole way upstairs.

Hermione sat on the couch and waited, and worried.

After his shower, he slipped on some clean jeans and a white t-shirt. She had showered in the extra bathroom, so she came into the bedroom as he was pulling his shirt on. She threw her now dirty nightgown on the floor, and pulled open one of the dresser drawers. She slipped on some knickers, and a t-shirt. She turned to face him, and he looked at her and said, "NO!"

She had put on a t-shirt of Justin Timberlake.

"I swear by all that's unholy, I will tear that right off your body, but it won't be any fun!"

He stood up and she slipped it off and said, "I was joking." She put it back in the drawer and slipped on a white cotton nightgown. He walked over to her desk, as she plopped on the bed. He took out her list, posted it back on her bulletin board, and took out a piece of paper and a ballpoint pen. She plopped up the pillows and watched him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Making my list," he said.

"What list?" she asked.

He turned and looked at her and said, "My list of 'things that would make a girl perfect' if she did them list."

She started to towel dry her hair and said, "Do you have a girl in mind that is going to perform these tasks?"

"I have several who would be willing, I am sure," he said. "I bet I could even find a girl who would pick me over some pretty, poster boy."

She stood up on her bed, and he turned around to look at her. She reached up and touched the JT poster. She started to take it down. He turned complete around to watch her. She pulled down one end, and then the other. She jumped off the bed, and just as he was about to say 'thank you', she said, "Excuse me," and she reached around him to open her top desk drawer. She got some tape, went over to the back of the bedroom door, and taped the poster there. Then she threw the tape back on the desk, and she KISSED the poster, and said, "Goodnight, Justin." She looked at Draco and said, "I couldn't kiss him goodnight up on the ceiling."

She smiled at Draco, picked up a book from the bookshelf, and went back to sit on the bed.

Draco put down his pen, stood up, walked over to the poster and said, "It's you or me, pretty boy." He walked over to Hermione, and grabbed the book out of her hand. She smiled at him sweetly.

"What would you say if I told you that I sincerely don't want the poster here? What if I said it hurts my feelings that you won't take it down, and that I am not playing a game? What if I said it's important to me?" Draco asked all of these things with a sincere expression gracing his handsome face.

Hermione looked for signs of deceit or mischief, saw neither, so she stood up, walked over, took the poster off the door, opened her top dresser drawer, took out something Draco couldn't see what it was, and walked out of the room.

Draco followed.

She walked quietly outside, and he followed.

She walked to the side of the house, and emptied out one of the metal outdoor trashcans. She came back around to the backyard, threw the poster in the can, and took the book of matches that she got from her top drawer, and threw a lit match in the can with the poster.

Draco looked in the can, the poster started to curl up, and the edges began to burn. He watched as it caught a flame, and smoke started to bellow out of the top. She walked over, turned on the garden hose, and put out the flames. As she stood there with the hose nozzle facing the yard, he looked back in the can, and saw nothing that resembled anything pretty. He saw a black, wet, burnt mess.

She looked at him with a blank express. He frowned. She said, "Does that answer your question? If you had asked me to take it down, sincerely, and told me that it bothered you, really, and that it hurt your feelings if I didn't, well, that's what I would have done in the first place."

"Gee, Granger, I was joking. I didn't care about the ruddy poster," he said.

She turned the hose on him and sprayed him good. She threw the hose down and went inside the house, angry. She had that poster for a long time, damn him!

He cleaned up her mess, put the hose back, and with his wand, dried himself off, once again. He knew how to make this up to her. He walked in the kitchen, and started to work.

After twenty minutes, he walked up to her room. They had been married a week, and hadn't had a fight yet, so he didn't want this to turn into one, especially over some poster of a pretty boy. She had resumed her reading. He threw something at her. She looked up as a tin can landed on her leg. It had a string attached to it, and attached to the string, in his hand, was another tin can. He walked over to the other side of the bed, and sat on the floor. He turned so he wasn't facing her, and his back was propped up against the bed.

She understood. Number eight on her list.

She sighed, put her book down, and sat on the floor, on the opposite side of the full size bed. She reached up for the tin can.

"Ring, Ring," Draco said.

Hermione put the tin can to her mouth. "Hello," she said into the can. She put the can up to her ear.

"May I speak to Hermione?" he asked. She looked at the can funny. He used magic to make this work! It sounded like she was talking to him on a phone, not just with two tin cans and a piece of string. She got up on her knees and stared at him. He turned his head around for a minute, and said, in the phone, "Just a minute, I have some crazy woman staring at me." He crawled over to her bathroom, tin can in hand, and shut the door. He said, "Now we can speak freely."

"Okay," she said. She got back up on the bed.

"Are you angry?" he said.

"A little bit," she said.

"I'll buy you another poster," he said. "Maybe one with a kitten on it."

She giggled. "It's not about the poster," she explained. "It's about the fact that you doubted how much I loved you, and it was about you manipulating me. I don't like either of those things."

"I understand," he said. "I could buy you a poster of a horse."

"Draco."

"I could buy you a poster of a shiny silver Volvo," he laughed.

"Draco."

"Yes?"

"You don't have to buy me anything."

"Then can I be truthful?"

"Yes."

"That poster really did bother me a bit, and I don't know why, and it really did bother me a bit that you wouldn't take it down, and again, I don't really know why. I'm sorry. I did try to manipulate you to feel bad so you would take it down, when I really should have just asked you nicely." There was a silence. "Or waited until you were asleep, and taken it down myself."

"Yes, that would have worked." She crawled off the bed and sat by the bathroom door.

"Hey, Granger, what are you wearing?" he asked.

She looked down at her nightgown. He knew what she was wearing. "What?"

"This is an obscene phone call, now. Tell me what you are wearing, and then I'll breathe heavy into the phone."

"You're a nutcase."

"Guilty as charged."

"I love you, Draco."

"I love you, Hermione."

She put the tin can down and touched the bathroom door. She put her face up against the wood and said, "Do you ever worry that we will find out that we rushed into this, and that we really don't know each other, and that we might come to regret this someday?"

He put the tin can down and sat by the door. He said, "Is that a multiple choice question, can I pick just one, or say, none of the above? Because, I don't worry about those things, and neither should you. We'll get to know each other. That's the fun of it." He reached up and opened the door. He stuck out only his hand. She took it.

"You're almost done with the list, you know it?" she said.

He let go of her hand and opened the door. He pushed her over and crawled on top of her. He looked down at her, as her hand came up to stroke his face. He said, "How many more do I have?"

"I don't really know, but you're almost done," she said. He kissed her mouth, a moist, quick kiss, and stood up. He offered her his hand. They both walked over and looked at the list.

She said, "We will do number two, let her fall asleep in your arms, tonight, and besides that, you just need to do number 13, fall in love with me, and tell me that you love me."

She turned and looked at him. His hands snaked around her waist and his mouth covered hers completely. His left hand went to her hair, to pull her head back a bit, as his right hand stayed around her waist. His tongue reached hers, and in a blinding act of faith and love, he swirled it around her mouth. His mouth slid across her cheek, to her neck, and he kissed her there, sucking and touching her skin with his tongue. She felt the familiar tingle in her lower belly, and she knew that he was doing number 13 right now. He had fallen in love with her, and with his kiss, he was telling her just that.

Her body withered and melted in his embrace. He lifted his head and looked at her. He said, "I love you so much, and I will show you that everyday of my life, if you let me."

She smiled at him and put her hands in his hair. She kissed him back, just as hard and fierce. She lifted her head from his, removed her hands from his hair, and said, "I love you, too."

They stood apart from each other, staring at the other like awkward teenagers, who had just kissed for the first time. He pushed her on shoulder and said, "You love me."

"Yes, I guess so," she said. She shoved him back. She went back over to the bed and picked up her book. He sat back down at the desk to finish his list. When he was done, he turned it into a paper airplane, and threw it at her. The point hit her square on the nose.

"WOW! I couldn't do that again if I tried," he said, impressed by his own maneuver.

She put her book down and said, "You're lucky it didn't blind my other eye." He sat down beside her. She opened up the paper and read his list.

Draco's list:

1. Have a girl write you a love poem, not too long, not too mushy.

2. Have a girl bake you cookies

3. Have a girl talk dirty to you during sex

4. Have a girl watch a sporting event with you, the whole thing, and not complain about it once.

5. Have a girl give you a massage.

6. Never hear the words, "I have a headache."

7. Have a girl laugh at your jokes, even if they are blue, and not yell at you about them.

8. Have a girl not yell at you if you pass gas, because after all, it's a normal bodily function and it's unhealthy if you keep it in.

9. Have a girl lie in bed with you all day long on a Sunday, read the paper together, do the crosswords, and have sex at least five times.

10. Have the girl make you your favourite meal, even if she hates to cook, and even if it's something that she doesn't like to eat.

11. Have a girl tell you she loves you after sex, even though you said it during sex, because after all, you still really meant it, even in the throes of passion.

12. Have a girl walk around all day long in your dirty t-shirt, just because it smells like you.

13. Have a girl romp with you, not cry if she really gets hurt, and not kick you in the groin.

She grabbed his hand and said, "This might take me a while to do, but if you can accomplish my list in one evening, than surely I can do your list in one day. I will start tomorrow, because I want to get it done before we go to your parents' house. I don't want to feel the added pressure of having to make them like me, and trying to accomplish the list, okay?"

"Tell you what, Granger," he said, his arm around her shoulder. "You can start tomorrow, but there's no time frame. Just get it done when you can. For me, however, I have only one more thing to do, and I intend to do it right now." He took off his jeans and his t-shirt, and climbed into bed, under the sheet.

He took the book from her hand and threw it on the floor. He took the list and folded it, and reached over her to place it on the nightstand. He said, "Turn out the light. I need to let you fall asleep in my arms, and I don't know about you, but I'm tired."

She turned out the light, and rested her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. He got the whole list done in one day, and was pretty pleased, indeed.

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	9. Chapter 9

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**Chapter 9 –**

The clock said 4:33 am. Hermione had been watching said clock for exactly sixteen minutes now. She did not know what time she fell asleep, because it was after 11:00 when they finally went to bed, they made love once more, and then Draco went to sleep. She knew she had stayed awake almost an hour after that. She finally went to sleep, but then woke up, sixteen, no, make that, seventeen minutes ago.

She could not get back to sleep because she was worried. She was worried about tomorrow, well, today, no, tonight. She was worried about tonight when they would go to the Manor. Hermione really did not want to go to the Manor. She had very bad memories of the Manor, she did not particularly like Draco's parents, and she knew the feeling was mutual. That was why she couldn't sleep. That was why she woke up eighteen minutes ago, and was still awake. She took Draco's arm off her stomach, and rolled out of bed. She went to the bathroom. After taking care of business, she went out and got Draco's list. She picked up his dirty white t-shirt on her way back to the bathroom.

She sat on the edge of the vanity and read his list again. She slipped off her gown and put on his t-shirt. One down. She really couldn't wear it all day, because she would have to wear something appropriate when she went to the Manor tonight, like a gown and a tiara, but she would wear it for a while. She did two of the things last night. She talked dirty during sex, well, in her opinion, calling his penis 'Mr. Happy' was talking dirty. She did number '7', which was to laugh at his dirty joke, which was when he called her private parts a name as well, which was really rather raunchy, but still she laughed, when her first instinct was to hit him, and she did number '11'. He told her he loved her while they had sex, and she told him afterwards that she loved him back. Not too bad. She couldn't do the 'stay in bed all day Sunday' one because they would be at the Manor Sunday, and she couldn't do the sporting event one this weekend, but she would try hard to do the rest of them.

She folded the list and looked out the window. She opened the window, even though her parents had the central air turned on. She felt restless. She closed the window and paced back and forth in the little bathroom.

Draco woke up as soon as Hermione moved his arm. He saw her go to the bathroom. He saw her come out of the bathroom to get the list he wrote, as well as his t-shirt from last night. He saw her go back in the bathroom, and she had yet to come out. He looked at the clock. It was 5:09 am. She had been in there for a really long time. Was she sick? Was she locked in? Did she fall in the toilet and drown? He threw back the covers, and put on his boxers. He went to the door and knocked.

"Hermione, are you still in there?" He knew that was a stupid question, because he hadn't seen her leave yet. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. "Are you ill?"

"Go back to bed, Draco," she said.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She walked up to the door. "I'm fine, get some more sleep."

"Can't you sleep?" he asked.

"Please, give me some time alone. Please."

He sat on the bed. Why did she need time alone? He couldn't help but worry. He went back to the door and with his wand, he unlocked it. He walked in and saw her sitting inside the tub, with his t-shirt on, and no water. She was just sitting in an empty tub, apparently contemplating, although what she was contemplating, he didn't know.

"Draco, please, can I be alone for a moment?" she asked, looking up at him.

He couldn't help but frown. He saw his list on the sink vanity. He folded it back into an airplane and 'flew it' out the door. He climbed in the empty tub with her, facing toward her. He didn't have much room. His legs went on the outside of hers.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"What are you scared of, water?" he asked with a small chuckle.

"Your parents," she answered.

He expelled a small laugh and said, "Listen, your mum is ten times scary than Lucius during his Death Eater days. You will be fine." He knew what she meant, but he wanted to bolster her. "Don't be scared. I told you, I won't leave your side for a minute."

"They won't like me," she said. "They'll think I'm inferior to them, and not good enough for you. You already said that your father thinks I married you for your money."

"That was a joke." He lied, because his father really did say that.

"No, they won't like me," she reiterated, shaking her head.

He reached for her arms, and pulled her toward him. They sat, facing each other, in the tight, cramp tub, and he put his arms on her shoulders. "Who cares what they think? You're brave, and courageous. You were a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. You helped Potter with the Horcruxes. You helped fight the final battle against the Dark Lord."

"Exactly," she said. "I was tortured in the Manor by your mother's sister and your father's fellow Death Eater, because I helped Harry Potter, and because I was a Gryffindor, and because I was a Mudblood." She shrugged his hands off her shoulders and stepped out of the tub. She looked down at him and said, "I'll go there tonight, and be polite, and civil, because they're your parents, and because I love you. Nevertheless, I will never, ever, be welcomed by them, so don't delude yourself thinking otherwise. Likewise, I will never totally trust them, or forgive them. I am so very sorry. Don't hate me." She walked out of the bathroom, and went back to bed. She turned to her side, and pulled the sheet around her.

He got out of the tub and turned off the bathroom light. He stared at her for a long time from the doorway. "You need to give them a chance. They really have changed," he implored.

"I told you, I will do this, but just for you. Not for them. And I will never forget what happened in that house. I don't even know if I can spend the night there. I think I will go back to sleep, now. Goodnight, or good morning rather." She shut her eyes. She didn't want to talk about it anymore.

She knew he sat down on the bed, because she felt the weight of his body cause a sag in the mattress. He didn't touch her, or pull her to him, or anything. She wanted him to, but she understood why he didn't. She knew he was having second thoughts. He should have known she would feel this way about them, about that place, but he hadn't counted on this, and now he was having second thoughts. He probably thought they would live there someday. She would rather live in a tent for the rest of her life, than ever live there. What would she do if he no longer wanted to be married to her?

He touched her arm finally. "Granger, we don't have to go there if you don't want. We could, I mean, I could tell them that I'm sick or something. We don't ever have to go there if you don't want. I mean it."

She turned to her back. She realized that he meant it, and she began to cry.

He pulled her into his embrace. "Sh," he hushed. "It's okay now. I'm here." He would never make her do something that would cause her pain, and he could see that just the thought of going to the Manor and spending time with his parents would cause her pain. Therefore, they just wouldn't do it.

"I don't want you to have to pick me over them," she said.

"Why not? You're my wife," he said. He kissed her hair.

"But that's unfair and unkind of me," she said. "I thought you would regret marrying me, that's why I didn't tell you how I felt."

"You're so stupid sometimes," he said. He knew that wasn't the best thing to say to a crying female, but she _**was **_stupid sometimes. She had to know that he would pick her over them, any day of the week.

"We'll go, I'll be fine," she said, her tears subsiding.

"No, I don't want to go now," he told her. His hand went to her face, and she looked up at him. The room was lighter now, though it was still dark out, and she could just make out his expression, and all she saw was sincerity. Well, that and love.

She said, "I want to try. I will try, for you, because I love you as much as you love me," she said. After a while, she finally fell back to sleep. However, Draco was now wide-awake.

About an hour later, he got up to shower and get ready for the day. When he came back out to the bedroom, Hermione was once again towel drying her hair. She had gotten up right after him and took another shower in the guest bathroom. She put his t-shirt back on, and a pair of jeans. She went to her closet, and said, "I think I have some old trainers in here. I didn't pack anything but sandals and dress shoes." She walked into her closet, and that was when Draco saw it…right on the inside of her closet door.

He walked up to the closet, and pointed and said, "How the hell did that thing get back in here? I saw it burn!" On the inside of her closet was another poster, he thought the same poster, of one Mr. Justin Timberlake.

"Oh, that's just another copy of the same poster," she said. She pushed past him, sat on the bed, and started to put on her shoes.

"WHAT?" he asked.

"Yes, I had two of the same posters, so what?" she said casually. She walked out of the bedroom and said, "I need to get downstairs so I can cook your favourite meal for breakfast. I need to get started on that list. See you down there."

He stared at her retreating figure. He looked back toward the poster and said, "Before I leave here today, one of us is going, and it isn't going to be me, Mr. Pretty Boy!" He slammed the closet shut.

Hermione began to make eggs benedict. Now, she hated eggs benedict. She didn't even really know how to make it, but she knew he had once said it was his favourite breakfast, so she was going to give it a go. Her parents were early risers, so her father was already on the side porch, drinking coffee, and her mother was upstairs getting dressed. She found her mother's cookbook and looked up how to make the damn dish. It didn't seem too difficult. It was just ham and poached egg in hollandaise sauce on top of a slice of toast or a split toasted English muffin. She could handle that.

Draco came downstairs and saw her in the kitchen. "What are you making?"

"Eggs benedict," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"It's on your list. Have the girl make you something you love to eat, even if she can't cook, which you know I can't, and even if she doesn't like it, which I don't." She had to start a third poached egg, because she was having trouble, and the first two didn't turn out well.

"I don't like eggs benedict, either," he said. "I like eggs florentine."

She turned to face him. "What?"

"Eggs florentine is what I like," he said. She frowned and picked up the cookbook. She found eggs florentine.

She read aloud, "Eggs florentine is poached eggs on a bed of spinach, topped with white sauce, and then cheddar cheese, and then baked. Damn!" She closed the cookbook. "I don't have spinach. Who likes spinach? Are you sure it's not eggs benedict that you like? It's poached eggs, too. Perhaps you're confused."

He smiled and said, "Perhaps you better go to the market and buy some spinach."

"Try the eggs benedict," she said.

"All you have made so far is the poached eggs, so just make the eggs florentine," he argued.

She frowned again. She called upstairs, "Mum, are you coming down soon?" Her mother started down the stairs.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Draco wants eggs florentine for breakfast and damn if I can make that. I really couldn't even make the eggs benedict I was going to try to make, because I had no idea how to make a hollandaise sauce, but at least it looked easier than this damn recipe." She opened the cookbook back up to the right page, and showed her mother.

"Granger, it's fine, don't bother your mother, I will just have the poached eggs," he said.

"No, Draco, if you want this, we can try to make it," her mother said.

"But I don't want it," he said back.

"Apparently you do, or Hermione wouldn't try to make it for you. Don't be bashful. We will figure this out, it's just, I'm a worse cook than Hermione is. Her father's the cook in the family." Phyllis went to the side door and yelled out for Edward.

"Edward, can you make eggs florentine?" she asked.

"Really, it's fine," Draco said, embarrassed now.

"Who the hell wants eggs florentine?" Edward asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Draco," Phyllis answered.

"Oh, well, do we have any fresh spinach?" he asked, as he looked over Hermione's shoulder, at the recipe.

"No, go to the market and get some," Phyllis said.

"I really don't want eggs florentine!" Draco insisted.

"Draco, it's no problem, so don't worry," Edward said. He saw the rubbery eggs Hermione had poached and said, "What are those?"

"I was attempting eggs benedict, because I thought that was his favourite, but he told me he would rather have the eggs florentine," Hermione explained. "Those are supposed to be poached eggs."

Draco stood up and said, "I didn't say that I would rather have eggs florentine. I just said that was my favourite! I would be happy with toast, juice, and coffee."

"These poached eggs look awful, Hermione," her father said, ignoring Draco's rant. "Who taught you how to poach an egg?"

"Mum," she answered.

"Enough said," Edward answered. "Let me go to the market and get what we need. I'll be back in a flash, and I will make breakfast for everyone." Edward grabbed the keys to his new car, and dashed out the door.

"Hermione, clean up this mess, I'm going with your father," Phyllis said. "Draco, is there any thing else I can get you while we're out? Do you want anything special for lunch?"

"I don't even want anything special breakfast, really. I would be happy with just some toast and coffee. I don't even need the juice," he answered.

"He's being polite," Hermione said. "Get some more eggs, and some brown sugar, vanilla and chocolate chips, because he wants me to make him some homemade cookies, too."

"Goodness." Leaning into her daughter, though Draco still heard, she said, "does he plan on keeping you barefoot and pregnant as well?" She walked out the door.

Hermione started to clean up the mess, and Draco sat back down in the chair and said, "I just want some coffee. I don't even need the toast."

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	10. Chapter 10

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**Chapter 10 –**

Now Hermione's mother thought he was not only a depraved lunatic who went around naked, but also some chauvinist pig who insisted that his wife make him eggs florentine for breakfast! Great! Now he really would have to buy her that car! Damn shiny silver Volvo driver!

"Great," Draco said, "You mother already doesn't like me, and now she'll think that I'm some bully, who does nothing but coerce you into doing things such as making me breakfast and the like."

"She knows I can't be made to do anything I don't want to do, anyway, if you want, I'll show her the list and tell her that I'm just trying to complete all the task like you completed the task on my list," Hermione reasoned, as she finished cleaning up the kitchen.

He walked over to her and said, "Don't you dare show her that list! She'll think that I am a depraved lunatic who goes around naked, a chauvinist pig that makes you make me special dishes, and she'll also think that I'm a sex addict because half of the things on that list involve sex!"

"Draco," Hermione laughed, "We're married, therefore, she knows we have sex." Hermione called the dog over and fed it the poached eggs. "Now, stop giving me that dirty look, I won't tell her if you don't want me to, but I want to do your list as much as you wanted to do mine, okay?"

He said, "Mine was just a bit of a lark. You don't have to do it. I don't really care." He put his arms around her waist, and she tucked her arms between their bodies, and rested them on his chest. She looked up at him. He added, "I know you love me, you don't have to perform a bunch of tasks to prove that to me." She moved her arms from his chest and laced them through his, to rest them around his waist. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I want to, though, I want to prove how much I love you. You wrote that list, describing your perfect girl, and I want that to be me."

"I already think you are my perfect girl," he countered. "You don't have to prove anything to me. You're more than perfect."

"What's more than perfect?" she asked.

"You're a Malfoy now, that's more than perfect," he joked.

"I'm a Granger Malfoy, no hyphen," she reminded him.

"Really? You decided on that?" he asked. He cringed and said, "Then I can't say you are more than perfect because you aren't a Malfoy, you're a Granger Malfoy, no hyphen, which would make you only partly perfect. So, I shall say that you are more than perfect because you are Hermione. I think Hermione is Latin for perfect."

"I don't think so, Draco the Dragon," she said, since his name was Latin for Dragon.

"I could look up the meaning in the Dictionary. I know how much you love the Dictionary," he said. He brushed his hands up and down the back of her hair. He pinched her bum. She hit his chest and pushed away from his embrace. He pulled on her arm, and kissed her arm, on the inside, starting at the wrist, going up to the lower arm, to the crook of her arm, to her upper arm. He kissed her shoulder. He said, "Tell me; what is your definition of perfect, Granger?" He kissed the side of her neck. He put both hands on her face and looked deeply in her chocolate brown eyes.

"Right here, right now, this is perfect," she said. She stood on her tiptoes, and placed both hands on both sides of his face, mimicking him from a moment ago, and she kissed his nose.

He picked her up and swung her around. He held her in his arms and said, "I married a sentimental fool, didn't I? What a sap you are." He placed her on her feet and he smacked her bottom.

"You're the fool," she said after smacking his bum in return.

"A fool in love."

"No, just a fool," she amended.

He laughed and said, "If you can catch me, than I'm the fool. If you can't, you are, ready, set, chase me!" He ran out of the kitchen toward the dining room at full speed. She followed. They rounded the dining room table and went toward the living room. He jumped the couch, and headed to the room off the living room, which contained the piano. He ran around the piano, and she chased him until she was on the other side of the baby grand piano.

"I've trapped you!" she said, breathing hard.

"You have to catch me, not trap me, love bug," he said.

"Don't call me stupid names, you romantic sap," she said.

"You're the romantic sap, 'Miss This is perfect, here in your arms'," he mocked in a high voice.

"You are dead," she said, laughing.

"More romantic words I've never heard," he teased. He dashed around the piano, and she reached out and grabbed his shirt. He was faster, and he escaped her clutches. He ran back through the foyer, back in the dining room. He was at one end of the dining table, and she was at the other.

"Apologize, you cad," she said.

"Cad?" He laughed, throwing his head back. "You make fun of how I talk all the time, and you say a word like cad? And you say I'm from another century!" He started to run around the table and she followed. She ran the other direction, and so did he. They ended up at opposite ends of the table, once again.

She started to go to her left, which caused him to go to his left, when she faked another right, causing him to slide across the table to escape her. His foot hit an antique crystal bowl, which was in the middle of the table. He knocked it onto the floor, where it shattered, and sending shards of crystal all around the room.

Hermione gasped, Draco remained on the table, in horror. Hermione, hands on her mouth, said, "Oh, you are in so much trouble!"

He climbed off the table and said, "Help me, Granger."

She turned and put her head on his chest and closed her eyes. She didn't want to witness the scene of the crime. She said, "Can it be fixed?"

"Best not to look, love," he said, patting her back. "I think it's gone for good. I don't even think magic can fix it." He let go of her and bent down to pick up the bigger pieces. "Was it valuable?"

"Yes, and sentimental, seeing that my dead grandparents gave it to my mum and dad for their wedding," she said.

"How did dead people give a present to anyone?" he asked, bending back down to pick up more of the larger pieces.

When he stood up to deposit them on the table, he saw a look of utter astonishment on her face. "You are not that stupid!" she said. "They weren't dead when they gave it to them! They are dead now, idiot!"

He deposited the last of the large pieces on the table, having decided to ignore her misrepresentation of his intelligence, and said, "See if you can fix it with magic."

"It's hard to mend glass, and there's so many pieces missing," she complained.

He used his wand to rid the floor of the smaller pieces and said, "Please try."

"Draco, just go buy her that car, right now," Hermione said seriously.

"You are useless," he said, moving her aside. He took his wand and tried to mend the bowl. It looked misshapen and odd and was more like a plate now.

"That looks awful!" Hermione shouted, pointing her wand at it. She made it at least resemble a bowl, but some of the pieces still looked peculiar. He bent down to look at it closely. She bent down right next to him.

He looked at her and said, "Will they notice."

"Definitely."

He moved it slightly, and said, "I don't think they will."

They were both still bent at the waist, side by side, looking at the bowl closely. She pointed to a crack and said, "There's still a crack in it! They will notice that!"

He moved it again so the crack was toward the other wall. She said, "What if they come in the front door?" He moved it back the way it was. "DRACO!"

He stood up, threw his hands in the air, and said, "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, but you are still in trouble," she said.

"I will blame you. I will say you were chasing me, which isn't a lie. They will be forced to believe me, because I'm the guest, and because they are well brought up English people and they were brought up to think that people are good, after all. They were brought up to be genteel, well mannered, and kind. They will never suspect I'm lying."

She glared at him and frowned. "They aren't stupid!"

"Well! You shouldn't have chased me!" he said. He pushed her shoulder.

"You shouldn't have slid over the table!" She pushed him back.

"Well, you shouldn't have done what you did to make me run!" he said.

She looked baffled for a moment and said, "I don't even remember what you did now, or why I was chasing you."

He looked up toward the ceiling, and then back toward her and said, "I am drawing a blank there, as well." He sat at one of the chairs and said, "The point is, I'm your husband, and you need to protect me from your mum, just like I will protect you from my parents, so you have to take the fall. It's as simple as that."

"So when your parents want to hang me for being a Mudblood, you will do what?" she asked, doubtful.

"I will hold your hand while you're climbing the gallows," he said. He held her hand to demonstrate. He pulled her to his lap.

She sat on his lap and said, "It's a Saturday morning. Even though it's only a bit after 8:30, I bet there's a car dealership open somewhere. Go buy her a car." She leaned forward on his lap, and moved the bowl again slightly. It looked hideous. A blind person would notice the difference.

"No, you just take the blame." He pushed her off his lap and said, "I'm going outside to play with the dog. Come here, Bailey!" The dog ran up to Draco, and he walked through the kitchen to the back door.

She took a deep breath, sat at the table, and sighed. She just sat there until her parents finally came home, about ten minutes later. Her mum and dad walked through the front door. "Hey, Angel face," her dad said. "We just got some scones, and coffee. I thought I would make us a big lunch instead. Do you think that will be okay with Draco?"

"Who cares," Hermione said under her breath. She stood up from the dining room chair and pushed it under the table.

Her father walked through the room to the kitchen. Hermione started to follow, praying that perhaps her mother wouldn't notice the bowl, when she heard, "Hermione Jean Granger!" She turned around. Her mother pointed toward the bowl. "What happened to my bowl?"

"I broke it, mum, and I tried to fix it, but I couldn't, and I am really sorry," she said.

"How did you break it?" her mother asked, with her voice raised. Draco had come back in when he heard the car, and was standing in the foyer.

"I was running through the room, and I banged into the table," she said.

"You are a grown woman, why were you running in the house?" Phyllis asked, picking the bowl up to examine it.

"I was saying really mean things to Draco, and I was forcing him to run," her voice cracked and she seriously sounded close to tears, "and he warned me to stop, and I broke your bowl." There, she took the total blame for everything.

"Hermione, my mum and dad gave that to me, on my wedding day," her mother said sadly.

Hermione sat at the other end of the table, and put her head down on the cold, polished, wood. "I know it meant a lot to you. I am so sorry." She was close to tears.

"Well, just next time, try to be more responsible, but I know we all have accidents. Don't worry about it." Her mother put the bowl back on the table and said, "If you think about it, it gives it more character."

Hermione looked up at her mother, and that was when she noticed Draco standing there, looking guiltier than she had ever seen him look. "Yes, that's one way to think about it," Hermione said. Her mother walked over to Hermione's chair and kissed the top of her head.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Phyllis said. She left the room.

Draco walked in and pulled Hermione up by the hands. He placed his hands on her face and looked in her eyes closely. He said, "That was without a doubt the nicest thing anyone ever did for me. I didn't think you would really take the blame. I mean, I know you're noble, and sweet, but you must really love me."

She nodded. He pulled her into his arms. He brushed a kiss across her brow. She melted into his arms. He ran his fingertips down her face. "Never before have I known someone like you, Hermione. You really are the love of my life." He lowered his head to hers and kissed her again, and stroked her hair with one hand, his other hand remaining on her cheek. He looked at her and smiled. He pushed the hair off her shoulder, and tucked it behind her ear.

"Now who's the sentimental fool?" she asked, smiling.

"You know what, love?" Draco asked back, "You're right. I am sentimental, but I'm no fool." He let go of her and called out for her mother. Mrs. Granger walked back into the dining room.

"Yes, Draco?" she inquired.

He took a deep breath and said, "Mrs. Granger, Hermione's taking up for me. I broke the bowl. I really am sorry. What colour Volvo do you want?"

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	11. Chapter 11

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**Chapter 11 –**

"What colour Volvo do you want?" Draco asked.

To Hermione's amazement, Phyllis Jean Granger said, "I trust your judgment, you can pick out any colour you'd like, sweetheart." She patted his cheek, and left the room. Draco turned with a smug smile toward Hermione, who was still in a state of shock, with her mouth wide open.

"Where's that car dealership, Granger?" he asked.

"She's joking," Hermione said. She hoped. She walked into the kitchen, with Draco on her tail. "You are joking, right, Mum?"

"No," Phyllis said, taking a coffee and sitting at the table. "He gave Edward a car, so I don't see the harm."

"Mum!" Hermione scolded.

"What?" she asked back.

"I know where there's a Volvo Dealership near here," Edward said. "We can take our coffee and scones with us. Come on, everyone, we can take my new car." Everyone, sans Hermione, stood to leave, with coffee and scones in hand.

"Coming, Granger?" Draco asked her with a backward glance.

"No, I'm making cookies instead. I cannot support this. It's like you're buying their affection, and on their part, it's like they're taking advantage, and I for one won't be a party to either." Hermione stood up and began to gather the ingredients needed for cookies.

Draco shrugged and left. Hermione threw a wooden spoon across the room. She wouldn't mind a new car, but no one offered her a car, did they? When they finally came home, about an hour later, Draco alone came up the drive. He saw her sitting on the side porch, reading with the dog beside her on a bench. He said, "I can't believe she picked red. They're out driving and told me to tell you they would be home shortly. They're taking us somewhere when they get back."

Hermione didn't look up from her book. He moved the dog from the bench and asked, "What are you reading?" She turned her shoulder slightly and didn't answer. He said, "I don't think being a bitch or a spoiled brat and giving me the cold shoulder is on my list."

Hermione looked at him and said, "No, but number one and two are on the kitchen table." He stood up and walked in the house. There were cookies on the table, on a plate, with a bow. He took one and popped it in his mouth. He did not even remember what number one was, until he opened the piece of parchment she had folded there. It was a love poem. Not too long, not to mushy.

It read:

* * *

The Perfect Day – by Hermione Granger (no hyphen) Malfoy

The perfect day,

Is spent with my husband.

Wrapped in his arms.

His mouth upon mine.

My head on his chest,

Listening to his heart beat.

Everyday with him,

Is perfect in everyway.

And how I lived my life before him,

I will never know.

Because loving him is perfect.

He is perfect.

We are perfect, together.

* * *

Draco took another cookie, folded the paper, and placed it in his pocket. He walked back outside and sat on a chair by the bench. "Hey Granger, do you want to know my perfect day?"

She didn't answer, but she did at least look up at him.

"My perfect day was two weeks ago today, that Saturday at the Burrow, the day I spent with you and fell in love, closely followed by the next day, which was the day we first made love, and got married," he said. He feed the rest of his cookie to the dog. "What's your perfect day?"

"This is our two week Anniversary of when we started dating," she said casually, instead of answering his question. She put her book down and said, "My perfect day would be sunny, of course."

"Of course. Hey, it's sunny today, you know," he said. He moved over to the bench, beside her.

"Not too warm. Short sleeve weather, not shorts weather, a jeans and t-shirt type of day," she clarified.

"Casual, right?" he asked.

"Exactly," she answered.

"We have the temperature determined and the dress code established what else?" he asked.

"I would sleep until nine o'clock," she said.

"You lazy girl," he said with a laugh. "Very laissez-faire of you."

"I would wake up, make love to whoever I might be in bed with at the time, get a shower, and dressed, in jeans and a t-shirt, and then have eggs florentine for breakfast." She laughed.

"Well, now I know you're lying," he said.

"No, I would really get dressed," she joked.

"Eggs florentine?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, well, I might change that to an omelet, with cheese and ham," she said.

"Who would be in bed with you, the chap you made love to, I mean?"

"Whoever was close by, I would assume," she said with a forced laugh.

"How convenient," he said sarcastically. "Continue, harlot."

"Harlot? You made fun of the word 'cad', and you call me a harlot," she said, mostly to herself. He took her hand and held it tight. He put it up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

"Lucky for you, I've always enjoyed the company of harlots," he said. He put his hand on her neck, and pulled her up on his lap. He kissed her neck again, and skimming his nose along her jaw line, he kissed her chin. She held her head back, to grant him more access.

"Is this part of my perfect day, or yours?" she asked.

"Are you not enjoying it?" he asked.

She was, and she couldn't lie. "No, it's acceptable," she said. She actually loved when he put her on his lap, and he cradled her in his arms. It was the best feeling in the world. She felt safe, loved, and wanted. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, and he put his mouth on hers, and kissed her deeply. He moaned slightly. So did she. He kissed her with fervor and passion, and with the deep knowledge that she was his, now and forever. He liked that thought.

He shifted her slightly on his lap, so that she was almost facing him. Her legs were up on the side of the bench. He moved one hand up her hip and then to her backside. She ran her hands over his chest, on the inside of his shirt. She would probably make love to him right there on the porch, if he had wanted.

He kissed his way around her face, and she was flushed, so that her warm skin under his mouth sent desire coursing through his veins. He loved her more than he ever thought possible. He was hopelessly in love with Hermione Granger. Who would have figured? His hand went to the back of her head, and his fingers wrapped around her long, curly, hair. He moved his mouth to her cheek, where his breath was warm and inviting. He said, "Do we have time, do you suppose, before the parents come home?"

"Probably not," she said and sighed. She pushed herself away from his chest slightly, and tried to get off his lap. He held her tight.

He moved his hand up and down her back, with lazy strokes, and said, "I want you so much, Granger. Why do you suppose that is?"

"I wouldn't know." She grinned. "I only know my own heart, and it beats only for you, Draco Malfoy. I am in love with Draco Malfoy. How odd that sounds." She finally stood from his lap and walked over to the porch railing, and sat down. "Shall I continue with the description of my perfect day?" she asked.

"I would rather continue with the kissing, but if you have an undying need to talk to me right now, I don't think I could stop you," he said. He adjusted himself, and crossed his legs. He patted the seat beside him on the bench. She got up and moved back to sit next to him.

"My lover and I would go lie on the couch, with the windows open and a breeze blowing in the window. We would read gossip magazines, with music playing, and then we would take a long walk in the park, hold hands, tell each other funny stories from our childhood, or maybe just saying nothing at all. Then we would come home and take a nap," she said.

"I can see were you would need the nap, I almost need one just from the boring description," he said with sarcasm. "Maybe you need a nap because you have a vitamin deficiency."

"Maybe you need to let me continue," she said with disdain.

"Wait, I know," he said, interrupting her again, "nap is your code word for 'sex' right? Like 'covert operations'. Do I need to take a mental note that 'nap' means 'sex' from now on?"

"You need to take a mental note to shut up," she said.

"Does that mean yes?" he asked. He knew he was annoying her. He liked to annoy her. He thought an annoyed Hermione was cute. He wondered if she thought an annoying Draco was cute. The way she was frowning, he would say no to that statement. "Carry on, and I apologize for annoying you," he finally said.

She stood up from the bench and said, "I don't want to continue. I'm tired."

He stood up and said, "Do you want to take a nap?" He laughed. He pulled on her hand. "Come on, we haven't taken a nap since last night." She pulled her hand out of his and walked off the side porch, to the two car unattached garage. She opened one of the garage doors. He was curious, so he followed. He looked in the garage and he said, "Don't be a spoil sport, tell me the rest of your perfect day."

She passed him, pushing a red bike. "No, I'm going on a bike ride. There's one for you over there, a black one, if you want to join me."

"I don't ride bikes. I'm not nine years old," he said.

She hopped on and said, "Do you not know how to ride?"

"In what contents do you mean, 'know how to ride?', because I know the basic principles, I have just never done it before," he said. She hopped off the pedals, placed her feet on each sides of the bike, and stood with it between her legs.

"That's what I mean by not knowing how," she said. "So, you've never ridden a bike before?" She got back up on the bike and rode it out of the garage.

"I'm a wizard, we don't ride bikes," he explained, as if he were explaining something to a child. "That's like asking a Muggle if they know how to ride that broom they're using to sweep up their floor. They wouldn't have a reason to learn. I had no reason to learn to ride a bike."

She rode around him, as he stood outside the garage. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"No," he said. He shook his head.

"Ron learned," she said. "Anyway, riding bikes is a part of my perfect day."

"Oh, that's below the belt, Granger," he hissed. "You know I want to make your perfect day come true, but now you're also questioning my manhood, because by Merlin, if Weasel can learn to ride a bike, I can."

She stood with the bike between her legs again and said, "Actually, I didn't tell Ron this, but I used a spell to make sure the bike didn't tip over. It's still on the black bike. I have to be honest with you, because, well, I love you. So, it will be a cinch to learn on a bike that doesn't tip over."

He walked over and got the black men's bike. He brought it out of the garage. "You are sure it won't fall over?"

"Positive. You just have to pedal and steer, and those are the easy parts," she said. She put her bottom back on the seat and started toward the street.

He said, "Why couldn't your perfect day involve brooms?" He got up on the bike and surprisingly enough, it didn't fall over. She was already out on the street. He got on the seat and started to pedal. His steering was wobbly at first, but he caught on quickly. He said, "I can ride a bike, Granger!"

She looked back at him and said, "I'm so proud of you. We only have time to go around the block, because my parents will probably be home soon, so let's go. The next street over has a rather steep hill that I love to ride down really fast." Hermione led the way, and he followed. Every time a car went by, he was slightly afraid, but their neighborhood was relatively quiet, so there wasn't a lot of traffic.

He was enjoying himself. If Weasel the great oaf could do this, than he could. He caught up to her shortly, and rode beside her. "This isn't half bad," he told her. "If only you didn't have to pedal, it would be even better."

"I think that's called a motorbike, not a bicycle," she said lightly. "I knew you would ride with me."

"Really, do tell, how did you know?" he asked.

"Because in my perfect day, my lover rides a bike right beside me, and oddly enough, his name is Draco," she said with a smile.

"Imagine the odds of that," he said back. "If his name was something else, I wouldn't have been able to come. Lucky me."

She started to pedal faster and she said, "Come on, the hill is around this corner." She shouted, "Catch up, Draco!" She stood up on the pedals, to pump them to make them go faster. Her hair was flying behind her. He caught up easily and turned to look at her. She was smiling. To see her so carefree and happy made him smile. She rounded the corner before him, and sat back down in the seat. She threw her hands up in the air and said, "WEE!!"

He laughed at her inhibition. He kept a tight hold of the handlebars as he went down the steep hill. It was fun, one might even say, exhilarating. It was not as thrilling as riding a broom, or driving a fast car, but he would put it at a close second. She stopped at the bottom of the hill and waited for him to catch up. He suddenly realized that he didn't know how to stop. She had a look of horror on her face, when she realized that very same thing, as she never told him about the brakes.

He rode right through the intersection; thank goodness, no cars were coming. He yelled, "Help me stop this blasted thing!"

She rode as fast as she could, and she yelled at him to use the hand brake, but he did not understand. He was still going fast, as a bright red Volvo drove right toward them.

"Swerve out of the way!" she yelled. She stopped, took out her wand, and said a spell to stop him, and to cushion his fall.

He fell over in front of a house. The red Volvo came to a complete stop in front of the same house and her mother and father ran out of the car. Hermione was there with her bike one second later. Draco sat on his backside, the bike in ruins around him, the tire off the rim, the handlebars bent. He said, "I hate bicycles! And I really, really hate VOLVOS!"

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	12. Chapter 12

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**Chapter 12 -**

Hermione was laughing. At him. Hermione was laughing at him. Soon, her dad started to laugh. At least her mother had the good manners not to laugh. In fact, she looked mortified. "Did I hurt you?" Phyllis asked. She leaned down to take the bicycle off Draco's legs.

"Oh, Mum, you didn't do it. Draco didn't know how to brake." Hermione could barely get the words outs. She turned to her laughing father and said, "He went so fast down the hill, right through the intersection, and he was like, 'oh no', and I was like 'oh no', and I was like, stop, and he kept going," (laughing harder), "and that was when it dawned on me that I never showed him where the brake was!"

Her father bent at the waist and laughed right along with her. Hermione's mother helped him up and Draco mocked, "I never showed him the brake, ha, ha!"

"Look at your bike, Edward! Is that funny? That could be Draco's leg!" Phyllis shouted.

Hermione and Edward continued to laugh. Phyllis took Draco's arm and said, "Come on, Draco. We'll take the car back home. Let these two bring the bikes. They're worse than a couple of hyenas." Draco limped to the car, nothing was wrong with him, he just thought the limp would garner him a bit more sympathy, and he got in the front seat. As they began to drive off, Draco held out his hand and gave the pair a very rude hand gesture, in deed.

"Oh, that was good," her father said, as he wiped his eyes.

"He screamed and I couldn't stop him in time," Hermione said, as she tried to stop laughing.

"Well, we better get these bikes back. Too bad there's Muggles around here, or you could just pop them back," her father said.

"Yes, too bad," she agreed.

"So, Hermione," her father said, as he picked up the black bike and began to walk, "Draco seems like a wonderful fellow. When we went to the car dealership, he was so nice and kind and he really seems to love you."

"Yes, I think he does," Hermione answered.

"I was afraid that you two would come to regret marrying so quickly, but I think you are truly compatible. He is just what you need. I never thought Ron challenged you enough," Edward said.

"He was challenging, but you're right," Hermione said with a small laugh. "It all worked out rather well in the end. Who would have imagined."

"Well, Draco said he had liked you for a long time, and that was why he waited for you at the chapel," Edward said as they turned onto their street.

"He liked me for a long time?" she asked.

"So it seems," he told her.

"Hmm," she answered. He had said that to her, but she didn't think he had meant it. Wow, Draco had liked her for a long time.

"Do you love him as much as he loves you?" her father asked. Hermione stopped pushing the bike, which caused her father to stop as well. She looked at him incredulously.

"Yes, I love him very much, why would you ask me that?" she asked.

He walked back toward her, and put the black bike down. "I didn't ask you if you loved him. I asked you if you love him as much as he loves you."

"Yes, I do. I do."

She started walking with the red bike again and her father said, "I just wanted to make sure that you got married for the right reasons."

She stopped and threw the bike down and walked back to him. "The right reasons?"

"Yes, I wanted to make sure you married him for love, and not just to get married. Not just because Ron got married. Not just because you were lonely, because sweetheart, if you did, that's not fair to him. Even if you love him as much as you claim, you didn't have to get married so quickly. You could have dated for a while, and gotten to know each other."

She didn't respond. She went to the red bike, picked it up, got on, and pedaled away from her father. She reached the house before him.

Draco was sitting on the front porch. She pedaled up to the front yard and put the bike down on the grass. She ran up to the front porch, where Draco was sitting on the steps. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Do you care?" he asked. His feelings really had been hurt.

"Yes, I do care," she said seriously. She sat next to him and put her head across his lap. She held his knees and said, "I love you so much. I apologize for laughing at you."

He smiled and stroked her hair. "Oh, it only hurt my pride."

She looked up at him, as his hand went from her hair to her back and said, "Was that your pride that made you limp back there."

He laughed and said, "Perhaps." Her dad had just reached the yard, where he left the black bike lying in the grass, and he took the red one into the garage.

Her father gave her an angry look. She hid her face back in Draco's lap. The look wasn't lost on Draco. "What's wrong with you and your dad?"

"He was questioning some things he had no right to question," she said, without explaining more. She sat back up and said, "I still can't believe you bought my mum a car." She held his hand.

"Why are you being like this?" he asked. "You didn't make such a big deal about the fact that I gave your dad a car."

She took a deep breath and said, "I know. I guess I'm jealous."

"Why, do you think I like your mum more than I like you?" he said with a wide smile.

"No, but I am slightly jealous, because you're so willing to give cars to them, and what can I give to your parents," she said.

"Wait a minute, you mean you aren't jealous that I didn't give you one, you're just jealous that you can't do the same for my parents?"

"That about sums it up," she said.

"Is something else bothering you. You dad truly seemed upset just now," Draco said.

She looked at him and said, "You are quite perceptive, but everything is fine. I'm going in the house." She walked toward the garage, and said, "I'll see if my dad needs anything first." She really just wanted to talk to her father. She was upset, and she wanted to hash some things out with him.

She walked into the garage and her father was climbing a ladder. "What are you doing, Dad?"

"I need that picnic basket. Use your wand and get it for me, won't you?" he asked, stepping back down the ladder. She did as he requested.

"Why do you need the picnic basket?" she asked him, as she cleaned the inside with her wand.

"When we went to the market this morning, I got an idea. I thought we could go on a picnic, and then perhaps go to the zoo." He picked the basket up.

Draco walked to the end of the yard, picked up the black bike, and headed toward the garage.

"A picnic and the zoo?" she asked. She looked around quickly, to make sure no one could hear, and she said, "Dad, I don't think Draco would like to go to the zoo. As he reminded me earlier about the bikes, he isn't nine years old." Just then, Draco walked up to the garage, and upon hearing his name, he hid by the opened door, and listened.

"I like the zoo, and I'm not nine," her father said, offended.

"I know but," she started, but he cut her off.

"Is it not sophisticated enough for Mr. Malfoy?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said truthfully.

"That's right, young lady, you don't know because you really don't know him, do you?" he said sternly. He seemed very angry. Hermione took a step back, because her father rarely became angry, but when he did, he could be a scary. "He might like a picnic! He might like the zoo! We're simple people Hermione, with simple taste. We are hard working professionals, who can't go around buying other people cars, but that doesn't mean we're beneath him!"

"Dad," Hermione said, "he doesn't think you're beneath him!"

Edward walked up to Hermione and said, "No, but you do." He started out of the garage, but turned back. "We are the type of people who enjoy going to our club, playing golf and tennis, and watching a football game on the telly. We like to barbeque in the back garden. We like to piddle around the house, go on long walks and drives, and occasionally we go to a museum or to a show. We don't live the glamorous life. This is us! If we aren't good enough for you, or your husband, that's too damn bad!"

Draco stood in the doorway of the garage shocked! What had led to the conversation he had just walked into? He picked up the mangled bike and walked into the garage. He put it down in the corner, which made both Hermione and her father turn to him. Hermione was embarrassed, not for her father, but for Draco, and Edward was angry, not at Draco, but rather at Hermione.

Draco said, "I don't know what gave you the impression that I thought I was better than you, Dr. Granger, but I don't think that! I would be happy just to spend the day here at home. I like watching sports on the telly. I like picnics and zoos. I would be happy just to play a board game with you. I don't need anything fancy. I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression in any way shape or form."

Edward turned to Hermione and said, "Are you happy now?" He turned back to Draco and said, "It wasn't you that gave me that impression Draco, so I apologize. It was your so-called wife. Perhaps you should have this conversation with her, since she doesn't seem really to know you that well. Tell her that. I'm going inside and I'm packing a picnic, and if you both want to go with us, we're leaving in about an hour and a half." He picked up the basket and walked out of the garage.

Draco turned to Hermione, but before he could ask her anything, she ran from the garage and past her father and upstairs to her bedroom.

Draco walked in the kitchen as Phyllis was asking Edward what happened. He heard her father say, "Hermione doesn't think our plans for today will be to Draco's liking. She wants us to go to a cotillion and perhaps an art exhibit or something." He started to prepare their picnic.

"And you think I think that as well? I don't, I really don't." Draco asked, "What did you have planned for today?"

Edward said, "Truthfully, at first we planned just a quiet day at home. We were going to look through old picture albums, watch a golf tournament on television, clean off the grill and have some steaks. We were going to uncover the pool, which we haven't even cleaned since we opened it this summer. But then, well, you bought us those cars, so we wanted to show you a better time than just a day at home, so we planned the picnic and the zoo, but even that isn't going to work out, is it?" Edward continued, "I didn't mean to upset her. I should go apologize."

"Edward, I'll go talk to her. I think your first plan for us sounds better. I would rather spend the day here, and I mean that. If you only knew how much I crave family time, you would understand," Draco said.

Phyllis smiled and said, "I'll call the pool man, and see if he can get the pool cleaned. Edward, you go clean the grill. Draco, you go talk some sense into our girl."

Draco walked up to her bedroom. The dog was sitting outside the door. He opened the door. He was surprised it wasn't locked. He sat on the edge of the bed. She had her back toward him. He said, "What's wrong?"

She turned toward him, sat up quickly, and threw her arms around him. "I am sorry you heard all of that. My father was trying to put me in my place, and none of that was really directed toward you. Oh, Draco, I am so sorry!"

"You should tell your father that, not me," he said as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

She pushed away from him and said, "I meant I was sorry _for_ my father."

Draco stood up and said, "You embarrassed me down there, Granger! You embarrassed your dad! You should go and tell him you're sorry! How dare you presume to think that I think I'm better than them?"

She stood up as well and said, "I didn't say that!"

"Good as!" he said back.

"No, you don't understand. He just made me angry! He said I married you for the wrong reasons! He said I married you because I wanted to get married, not because I loved you! He thinks you love me more than I love you! He said I married you because Ron got married!" She started to cry.

"Is there truth in any of that?" he asked.

"NO! He said you loved me more than I loved you, I didn't say that! I do love you! I DO!" She paced around the room. "How dare anyone tell me how I feel!"

"Maybe we did marry too quickly," he said suddenly. She calmed down and sat next to him on the bed.

"I love you. I want to be married. Why can't you all believe that?" she asked.

"I did believe it until a few seconds ago," he said softly.

"We just still need to get to know each other, I mean, really know each other. We've know each other most of our lives, but we don't KNOW each other. Please, give me another chance. I will go and apologize to my dad. I will tell him that the zoo is fine, just don't give up on me." She hung her head and cried.

He put his arm around her, as his other hand came up and stroked her cheek. "I would never give up on you. I told your dad that I would be happy to stay here with you and them this afternoon, so that's what we're going to do. And, you know, you're right, we need to get to know each other. Let's show each other five things about ourselves."

She wiped her eyes and said, "Show?"

"Yes, well, show and tell," he said.

He pulled her to him and rested his chin on her head. "I really want to get to know you as well as I love you. There's so much to discover, and before your mind goes in the gutter, I'm not talking about sex."

"I might want to show you something sexual, though," she said with a slight laugh. "However, if the rules clearly state no sex, no sex it is. I'm no rule breaker, that's for sure."

"There's no rule that says we can't have fun while we get to know each other. In fact, 'no rules' is another code word for sex, for future reference. No one said there were written rules. Rules are meant to be broken, and deviated from slightly. You didn't know that, did you? That is the first thing you should know about me, I am a frequent rule breaker. Anyway, here is what we'll do, we have to show the other something about ourselves, and then tell about it. I'll start." He stood in front of her, lifted his shirt, and pointed to a scar on his side, on his left rib cage. "I got this scar breaking the rules. My parents had a rule that I couldn't climb out my window, and when I was fourteen, I tried to sneak out of the house, and I fell into the bushes, and I cut my side very badly."

She stood up as well and said, "I can roll my tongue," and she demonstrated. He smiled.

"I would like to see that tongue thing again tonight, when we're alone. That's sexual to me, so even though I said no sex, I'm glad you're breaking the rules." He laughed.

"You just said 'no rules' was code for sex. You're confusing me," she said. She sat back on the bed. "It's your turn. Dazzle me with something wonderful."

"I will, but do you promise first to do that tongue thing tonight?" he asked.

"Pervert," she said.

"Prude," he said. "Let me think of the next thing. Have you seen my mole? The one covered by my hair?"

"If it's covered by your hair, how would I see it?" she asked.

He walked up to the bed, and said, "Stand on the bed." She put her hand on his shoulder and stood up and looked to where he used both hands to part his hair near the part. Sure enough, he had a mole.

"You do have a mole there. Not that moles are that astonishing, on the whole, as you have more than just that one, but it is something I didn't know." She kept her hand in his hair.

He grabbed her around her legs and tackled her onto the bed. He climbed up her body and said, "Your turn, Granger, make it as good as a mole."

"I have a birthmark on the back of my calf shaped like Australia," she said. She pulled up her pant leg, and pulled her leg up by the knee. He sat up on the bed, as she lay there, and he put one hand on her hip, over her jeans, and he traced the little brown birthmark with the fingers of the other hand.

"I've seen that before, but I thought it was dirt or something," he said jokingly.

She straightened her leg and said, "You thought it was dirt? Like all the time? That never washed off?"

"Yes, each and every time I saw it, I thought it was dirt," he joked. "I could pretend I've never seen it before." He pulled her pant leg back up and said, "Wow, amazing, that's the sexiest Australian birthmark I've ever seen." He leaned down and kissed her calf.

She hit him away from her and sat up beside him. "My turn," he said. "I can whistle out of my nose."

She fell back on the bed, laughing. "What!?"

He straddled her body and said, "Watch." He pressed on one side of his nose, shut his mouth, and sure enough he whistled. She laughed hard and hit his thighs.

"That's one of the funniest things I have ever seen!" She laughed hard.

"Show me your next thing, Granger," he said, still straddling her.

"Get off and I will." He moved his leg, and sat beside her. Before he could comprehend what she was doing, she sat on his waist. She pulled his old t-shirt off her body. She removed her bra. He propped his upper body up on his elbows, as she straddled his waist. He cocked his head to the side.

"I've seen your breasts before, and while I agree they're amazing, they're something I already know about you," he said.

"No, really look," she said, sitting up tall. "The right breast is slightly larger than the left. Not a lot, but some. Don't you see?"

He did really look and examine them. He reached out with one hand and touched one, and then the other. He looked up at her and said, "Freak."

She hit his chest and he wrestled her so that she was under him. He put both hands on her breasts and said, "Now, I am intrigued. This is really going to bother me. Let me examine them closer. It's like when you see something at the freak show, and you know you shouldn't look, but you can't seem to look away."

She hit at his hands, as he kept trying to feel her breasts. He finally got off her and he reached down and threw his old shirt back at her. She put it over her head and he said, "You and your freaky breasts."

Hermione hit him hard on the arm. She fell back on the bed and said, "Listen, are we okay? I mean, about earlier? I love you more than I knew possible, and I want to be married to you because I want to be married to you. Please, believe that."

He fell down beside her and turned to his side. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Are we back to that? I know, Hermione, I know." He leaned down again and kissed her mouth. His fingers skimmed the soft skin of her face and neck. He was fascinated by her. She smelled so sweet, and tasted sweeter. He put his hand under her shirt and touched one of her breast. She moaned slightly, and arched her back to meet his hand. He kissed his way from her ear to her collarbone. He cupped her breast in one hand, and rubbed his finger back and forth over the swollen, tight tip. He pushed the shirt up and said, "Why did you put this stupid shirt back on?" He pulled it over her head, and he dipped his head down to claim her breast in his mouth. He licked it back and forth, and finally took it completely in his mouth. She moaned. He lifted his head and smiled.

"Here's the fourth thing I can show up. I want to show you how my mouth can elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth. Shall I continue? Do you want to see?" he asked.

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	13. Chapter 13

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**Chapter 13 –**

"Shall I continue? Do you want to see?" he asked. "I can make the sweetest sounds escape those red lips of yours."

"Go lock the door," she suddenly said.

He looked over at the door and back to her. "No," he said plainly. He kissed one of her breasts again. She pushed away from him, with all her might. She jumped off the bed to go lock the door, but instead, she bent down and picked up the paper airplane that was once his list. She looked at it quickly and then put it back on the desk. He watched her from the bed. She threw her t-shirt back on and said, "Is it my turn? I think it's my turn. Let me see, what can I show you that you don't already know?" She totally forgot about the unlocked door.

"You want to keep going? You don't want me to continue?" he asked, amused. She looked flushed as she sank down to sit in front of the door. He actually rolled off the bed and crawled over to her. "We have time, you know."

"Not in the middle of the day. They might come up here," she said.

He kneeled in front of her and said, "You practically raped me downstairs in your dad's den last night, and now you're Miss Prude up here in the bedroom. Where's the logic in that?"

She took a deep breath and pushed on his chest. "Don't come any closer."

He openly laughed at her and said, "Or what, you will shoot me?"

"Shoot you?"

"I heard that in a Muggle movie once," he said. He moved closer. He pulled on her arms, so that she was up on her knees, facing him. He kissed her neck. He said, "If you want to do that tongue thing, now would be a good time." He pushed her down on the floor, and put his entire body on top of her. She hit him upside the head, turned to her stomach, and tried to crawl away from him.

He held the side of his head and said, "It's not nice to hit." He crawled after her, and before she could completely stand, he tackled her and she fell back to the floor. She was on her stomach, and he put his body prone on top of hers. "Go on, Granger; show me something about you that I don't know." He said in her ear before he bit her earlobe.

She was totally helpless underneath him. She said, "Let me up, I can't concentrate." He turned her around and started to tickle her.

"You don't need to concentrate. I do, you just need to enjoy," he said, as he continued to tickle her ribs.

She laughed and put her hands on his wrists. "STOP!" she laughed. He bent his head and licked the side of her face. He held her hands over her head. She said, "That was gross!" She struggle to get out from under him and then came to a total stop. She was out of breath. She finally said, "Hey, this is on your list. Romp with the girl, and even if she gets hurt, don't complain, or something. I'm paraphrasing, because I don't have your list memorized yet."

"You didn't get hurt," he said.

"Did you want me to get hurt?" she asked. He still had her wrists in his hands. "Anyway, you hurt my shoulder, actually."

He leaned down and kissed her left shoulder.

"The other shoulder," she said. He leaned down and kissed the other shoulder.

"Anything else hurt?" he asked.

"When you tackled me, I hurt my hip," she said truthfully. He got off her slightly, and moved the waistband of her jeans slightly, so he could kiss her hip.

"Oh, was that the correct hip?" he asked slowly. It actually wasn't, but instead of answering, she took that moment to try to escape from him, since he was no longer on top of her.

She stood up quickly and so did he. He suddenly turned and tackled her again and they both fell on the bed. He put his body on top of hers again and placed a pillow over her face when she started to scream.

She stopped screaming. "Did you suffocate?" he asked, lifting the pillow slightly on one side.

"Again, I ask, did you want me to?" she asked, more out of breath than the last time.

"Not really," he said. "You said it was your turn, so show me something magnificent."

"I can't because you're ON TOP OF ME!" she bellowed.

"You have anger management issues, don't you?" he asked. "Let's explore these issues."

"Draco Malfoy I swear I will kick your arse if you don't let me up! I hate being confined! I really do! There, you know something else about me, so please, let me up now!" She seemed very serious.

"If I let you up, can we make love?" he asked.

"You're an annoying prat!" she said, but she smiled. "Draco, why do you vex me so much? You annoy me to the point of distraction, but I love it all the same. What are you doing to me?"

"Right now I'm sitting on you, but I thought that was crystal clear," he said, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Normally, if someone was this annoying, I would curse them into next week, but I find you slightly charming and entertaining," she admitted. He moved to lie beside her.

"Tell me more things you like about me," he said. "Spare no details. Start with my physical attributes and work from there."

She laughed and got up on her side. "Are you serious?"

"Slightly," he said. He wasn't really, but if she wanted to tell him how wonderful he was, who was he to stop her?

"I think you're smart, even though you play dumb. You're wickedly funny, and you are very good looking. You're kind and you usually don't beat me up," she started, "you are sensitive to my moods, and as stated a few seconds ago, you annoy me to the point of distraction. You have a good heart, despite your reputation. You are conceited, but you are also generous with your praise. You just plain make me laugh. I love you."

He pushed her hair away from her face. He said, "Shall I tell you why I adore you?"

"It wouldn't hurt, unlike rolling around on the floor," she reminded him.

"I like the fact that you are intelligent, even though sometimes you like to flaunt it. I like that you're courageous, and gracious. I like that you are passionate about things, and unabashed about causes you believe in. I like that you always think of your friends first, and yourself second. I like that you get so easily annoyed by me," he laughed at this, and so did she. "I love the way you smell, even when you tell me not to smell you because you haven't had a bath yet. I love everything about you, even how you second guess and doubt everything, and before you say it, no, I don't think we got married too soon and no I don't regret a second of it. See, I can even read your thoughts."

She gave him a funny look and said, "Like you said at the Burrow, that subject is long dead and buried, and I won't resurrect it again. I won't ask you that again, and I won't mention it again, agreed?" She held out her hand.

He shook her hand and said, "Agreed."

"We should go see if my parents need any help," she said.

"We should kiss first, and make up," he said.

"Were we arguing? Why should we make up?" she asked.

"We weren't really arguing, but I still want to make up."

"You want to make out," she corrected.

"You say it your way, and I'll say it mine," he said. He had a sudden, serious, expression grace his face. He said, "You know what, I just figured out what I love the most about you."

"My hair?' she joked.

"No," he said back. He pushed her to her back, and loomed over her. He said, "I love that nothing about you is subtle. You're smart, and so what if you flaunt it. You love what you love and who you love, and to hell with the rest of them. You don't waver from your convictions. I love that you are what you appear to be. Yes, Hermione Granger No Hyphen Malfoy is not subtle in the least."

She didn't know what to say. He reached over and put his index finger lightly over her lips. Even though they had shared many kisses, and much more, in the past two weeks, each time he touched her it still caused a warm feeling to start in her abdomen and to spread like wildfire throughout her body. His hand went down and skimmed the side of her breast and her waist, before stopping on her hip.

Hermione said, "You could almost make a girl fall in love with you, Malfoy."

"Almost?" he asked, seductively. He lowered his head to capture her mouth in a warm, demanding, kiss. His tongue slipped in her mouth, coaxing hers forward. She slipped her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer. "The door is still not locked, Hermione," he reminded her. At this point, she didn't care.

He slipped the t-shirt back over her head. The poor garment had been removed and put back on so often in the last twenty minutes, if it had any human emotions, it would surely be confused. He threw it on the floor. His hands moved down her naked chest, around to her back. She clutched his shoulders. He skimmed the side of her breast with his knuckles, before moving to slip under the waistband of her jeans.

She shuddered slightly, and he again rained kisses over both breasts. She cried out with an almost inaudible moan as his head dipped once more to claim a nipple in his mouth. She held the back of his head as he moved his attention from one breast to the other.

She immediately moved her hands to the hem of his shirt and she pulled it over his head. He had to break contact with her breasts to help her move it over his arms and head. He threw it on the floor also. He kicked off his shoes and so did she. He moved on top of her, placing one jean covered thigh between her legs. The friction caused her to moan again, only this time, it was louder. He chuckled and wanted to remind her that he had boasted he could make her moan, but coherent speech eluded him when she pushed him on his back, and began to kiss his neck and chest. His shoulders were broad and his chest muscles well defined. She had to admit, she found him incredibly attractive.

She ran her hands and lips over in him awe. She knew she loved him more than just for his attractiveness, but it was a plus. She hovered above the opening of his jeans, and began to unbutton them when they both heard her mother calling to them from downstairs.

Hermione looked up. Draco grabbed her face, pulled her back to his chest, and said, "Act like you didn't hear." She pushed away from him and he pulled her back again.

She pushed away a second time and said, "I knew we didn't have time for this."

Phyllis called to them again, and this time her voice sounded closer. Hermione rolled off the bed, and fell to the floor, on the other side of the bed. Draco put a pillow over his erection as the door opened slowly.

"Oh, Draco, taking a nap?" she asked with the door opened. The dog, which had remained outside the door the whole time, ran over to the other side of the bed, and jumped on Hermione. Hermione let out a groan. Her mother glared at Draco and said, "Is Hermione on the floor?"

"Yes," Draco said.

"Is she decent?" she asked.

"In what sense?' Draco asked.

Her mother smiled and said, "Make yourselves presentable and come downstairs, we need some help with lunch." She called for the dog and said, "Oh, to be young and in love again." She and the dog left the room and she shut the door.

Hermione put her chin on the bed and said, "I told you to lock the bloody door!" She stood up and said, "I'm getting a quick shower."

"Why, we didn't even do anything. You don't need the shower, I do," he said as he bounded for the bathroom door.

She tried to walk in the bathroom first, but he pulled her back. "I need a cold shower if we aren't going to continue," he said. He actually picked her up and threw her on the bed and he shut the bathroom door. She sat, undeterred, on the bed for a moment and then stripped naked. She heard the shower start. She opened the bathroom door a crack, and looked in. He was in the shower, with the curtain closed. She snuck as quietly as she could to the shower curtain. Before she could pull it open, he pulled it open and yelled, "CAUGHT YOU!" She screamed, because he surprised her. He laughed, and said, "Get in Granger, but make it quick, because your mum and dad needs help you know."

She climbed in the shower and said, "Quick, you say?" She smiled at him warmly. The warmth of her smile was enough to make him forget that he was in a cold shower.

He had his back to the spray of water. The contours of her body, the water droplets on her skin, the way her eyes danced with delight, were all enough to show him why he loved her. Yet he knew he loved her for more than just the physical, and suddenly, he felt bad that anyone should question that. He leaned against her, and turned her body so she was under the water. He snaked his arm around her and said, "We have nothing to prove to anyone, do we?"

She seemed confused. "In what way?" The water wet her hair, and started to run in her eyes.

"To our parents, because I was just thinking, if your parents are questioning our motives, than my parents will be ten times worse, so we need to grow a thick skin…" his hand skimmed down her body and back up again, "so to speak."

He pulled her wet, slick, body back up against him and placed his head in the crook of her neck. She held onto his shoulders for dear life. She felt his hand slip down the side of her body, to her thighs, which caused her to shiver. Now she was worried. She couldn't concentrate on his hands and mouth, even if she tried. He was right, because if her parents were wondering if their love was sincere, than his parents must still be in a state of shock.

She pushed away from him and said, "I guess I was under the false impression that since our parents came to the wedding, they approved."

"Yes, well, you are naïve and dense like that sometimes," he said, matter of fact. She frowned at him. She turned so her back was to him, and added some warm water to the spray.

She said, "Let's get a real shower and get downstairs. I don't want my parents down there talking about us." He leaned forward and slipped his hands down her slick body, which she had just begun to lather with soap.

"You would be surprised how fast I can be when I want to be. I can also multitask. I can wash you and have sex. Those can be the last things I have to show you." With his mouth on her neck, one hand on her breast, and one hand below, she was at his mercy.

After a very nice shower, if Draco did say so himself, they both ran into the kitchen, fresh clothes on their backs, she in a navy blue sundress, and he in khakis and white polo shirt. They both had smiles on their faces.

"You're both wet," her father said.

Hermione looked at Draco and said, "Hey, you're wet."

"What a world, what a world, so are you," he said with a smile.

"Why are you both wet?" Edward asked again, as he chopped some onions. "The pool man is just now cleaning the pool, so you couldn't have taken a swim." He looked back at the cutting board. Hermione looked at Draco and snickered. He pushed her shoulder.

"Your daughter's wet because she took a shower, and I'm wet because she forced me to take one as well." He laughed. "So, what can we do to help?"

"Hermione, you start the salad. Draco, you go outside and fire up the grill. Its gas, so it's relatively easy."

"Right, the grill," Draco said. He looked at Hermione and shrugged. She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

Draco went outside and looked at the grill. How the hell did a person, 'fire it up'? He walked up to it and actually scratched his head. He looked at the propane tank on the bottom. He turned the lever, and the gas started to hiss. He was about to start the fire with his wand when Hermione ran outside.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pulling on his wand hand.

"I was going to start the grill by lighting it on fire," he said.

"You were going to blow us all to bits!" she said. "Go finish the salad, and I will start the grill."

Draco shrugged again and walked back inside. He looked at the counter. There was lettuce, iceberg and romaine, turnips, radishes, cucumbers, scallions, celery, carrots, and oil. He frowned. He knew all these things went toward making a salad; he just didn't know how to execute it.

"Hey, Ed, may I use magic?" he asked.

"Would love that, Draco, my boy," Edward laughed back.

Hermione walked in after hearing the exchange and said, "You are useless. Move aside." She pushed him away from the counter.

He stood behind her and kissed the side of her neck. "You didn't think I was useless upstairs. Do you want to see me multitask again?"

She grinned and turned to look at him and smiled. Her father coughed and said, "I'll go start the steaks. I want to remind you both that you don't have time for you to take another shower." He laughed and walked outside.

Draco put his hands around her waist and pressed his front against her back. He moved the hair from her neck and kissed her once again. He sucked on her neck and she hissed and then moaned. "See, even in the kitchen, I can make you moan," he said in her ear.

She turned quickly and held up her hand, which she had promptly wrapped in a dishtowel. The moan was from pain. The towel was already crimson with her blood. "I cut my hand on the knife," she said. He took a step back, saw all her blood, and promptly fainted.

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	14. Chapter 14

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**Chapter 14 – **

"Oh, great," Hermione said as she clutched her lacerated hand. She leaned down and patted Draco's cheek. "Draco, wake up."

Her father walked in and yelled for her mother. "What happened to Draco?" he asked.

"He fainted."

"Why?"

Hermione held up her towel wrapped hand.

"Gracious, Hermione, it's always something with you," her mum said as she walked in the house. She went to get a wet cloth to put on Draco's forehead.

Her dad said, "Good thing we didn't name you 'Grace', because you certain are accident prone." He unwrapped her hand as Phyllis attended to Draco. "Well, ouch, that looks like it hurts. You need stitches or you might have to go to St. Mungo's."

"Can you take care of it yourself?" her mother asked, as Draco started to come around from his place on the floor.

"I don't know. Dad, could you go up to my room and get my wand from my purse?" she asked.

Draco said, "Why am I on the floor?" He sat up and threw the wet cloth off his head.

Phyllis said, "Hermione knocked you out cold." She laughed and so did Hermione. Draco looked confused and stood up. Hermione turned so her back was to him. She didn't want him to see her hand again.

Edward came down and said, "I have your wand."

"Mum, come with me to the bathroom and help me heal my hand," Hermione said, her back still to Draco.

"What did you do to your hand," Draco said. He turned Hermione around, and looked at the cloth and felt nauseated. He bent at the knees.

"Sit down, before you faint again," Edward said.

"I didn't faint!" Draco said as Hermione and Phyllis left the room. They headed for the downstairs bathroom.

"Fine, you swooned." Edward laughed.

Draco said, "I didn't swoon either."

"Whatever, you still ended up out cold on the floor. You didn't faint yesterday when she cut her knee," Edward said.

"Well, there wasn't very much blood that time, was there?" Draco said. He put his head in his hand, while he sat at the table. Just the thought of all that blood made him want to 'swoon' again, as Edward put it.

"We can't eat this salad now," Edward said, throwing away the food and cleaning up all the blood. Draco looked over at the counter and had to leave the room.

Draco knocked on the door of the downstairs toilet and said, "Hermione, your dad said you cut you hand pretty bad. Do you need to go to St. Mungo's?" He started to come in the bathroom, but Hermione blocked the door. She looked out at him through a crack in the door.

"I think I might. I'm not sure I can do this myself, because it's a deep laceration, but please, I will have Mum go with me, you stay here," she pleaded.

Phyllis left the bathroom, and closed the door again. "Draco, I'll tell Edward we're leaving. You stay and help with lunch." She walked down the hall to the kitchen.

Draco knocked on the door again and said, "It's my fault. Let me take you, please. I am your husband." Hermione opened the door again. Draco tried not to look at the completely blood soaked dishcloth around her hand, but couldn't help it. The smell of the blood made him taste a slight metallic taste in his mouth, and he winced and closed his eyes.

"For goodness sakes," Hermione said. She pushed him out of the room with her good hand and said, "Mum will go with me. She can side-along apparate. You stay here."

"No," he said through the door. "I want to go. I was just trying to show you something else about me that you didn't know. I hate blood. This is actually the third time in my life that I fainted at the sight of a large amount of blood."

Phyllis stood outside the door again as Hermione opened it and said, "You didn't faint the weekend we met when I punctured my hand, or last night when I hurt my knee. Good thing you didn't become a Death Eater."

"What's a Death Eater?" Phyllis asked.

Hermione didn't know her mother was out there, or she wouldn't have said that. She opened the door again and decided in order not to answer her mother's question, she would have Draco take her. She said to Draco, "Fine, you can take me."

They sat in the lobby of St. Mungo's, waiting for a healer, when Draco said, "I'm useless, aren't I? What if it had just been you and I around."

"Then I would have revived you and I would have brought myself to Hospital," she said.

"What if you had lost so much blood that you couldn't walk?" he said.

"Then I would have floo'd St. Mungo's, or called for help on my phone," she reasoned.

"What if your husband ruined your phone with the garden hose?' he asked.

"I would have crawled for help," she said.

"What if you passed out, too?" he asked.

"Then I would have laid there and bled to death," she said.

"I'm serious!" he said.

"I am, too! I would have bled out, and when you woke up, you would have passed out again at the sight of all the blood," she said with a smile.

"I don't want you to die," he said.

"That is an unpleasant thought, isn't it?" She laughed.

"It's not very manly for me not to be able to take care of my own wife if she's bleeding to death," he said, looking at the floor.

"Oh, Draco," she said, "no one would ever question YOUR manhood."

Just then, a Healer called out, "Hermione Malfoy?"

Hermione stood up and walked over to the Healer.

"Hermione!" he said. "I wondered if it was you, because let's be serious, who else has the first name Hermione, but the Malfoy part threw me a bit."

"It's actually Hermione Granger Malfoy," Hermione said.

Draco leaned over her shoulder and said, "No hyphen."

They both followed the Healer to a little room. Hermione said, "Draco, do you remember Terry Boot? He was a Ravenclaw in our year at school."

Draco shook his hand and said, "Slightly. Nice to see you, Boot."

"You too, Malfoy." He started to remove the cloth from her hand, and Draco stood up to look out the window. Terry said, "I heard you were taking a couple of weeks off work, but I didn't know you had gotten married. Congratulations to the both of you."

"Thanks," Hermione said.

He started to heal her hand and said, "This is a nasty laceration, and very deep. I think there is some tendon damage. You were right to bring her here, Malfoy, because she wouldn't have been able to heal this on her own." Draco turned around. That sentence just made him feel guiltier. "You lost a lot of blood, too, so you will need a blood replenishment potion, as well as a potion for the pain, and one for possible infection. In fact, you lost so much blood, I doubt you would have made it here on your own. I will also have to bandage your hand. I don't want you to use if for a week, okay? Since I'm your boss, I am telling you to take another week off work, an extended honeymoon, okay?" Terry ran off to get the potions.

Draco turned as he left the room and said, "You lost a lot of blood. See, you might have passed out and then where would we be?"

"Draco, just shut up," Hermione said. Terry took that moment to return. He gave Hermione a questioning look and she explained, "Draco thinks this is his fault, and he feels bad because he fainted."

Draco frowned at her, especially because she told someone he 'fainted'. Terry laughed and said, "Squeamish, Malfoy?"

"Not in the slightest, Boot," he remarked.

"I'm joking about the passing out," Hermione lied. "He's upset because I can't multitask as well as he does, that's all."

Terry left the room again for a moment and Draco said, "Don't tell people I passed out!"

"Well, you did, so I didn't see the harm."

Draco sat beside her now bandaged hand and said, "You can't multitask very well, can you. You can't even cut lettuce and be kissed at the same time. That's not a hard thing to do, you know." He gave her a small smile. "I'm a useless husband, aren't I?"

"Please, get over this. You aren't useless at all," she said. "It was a small little faint, it doesn't make a difference."

"What if you cut your hand off and it bounced across the floor?" he laughed.

"I refuse to play 'what if' with you again. Especially about my hand 'bouncing' around." Hermione grinned.

"I am perfectly serious, Granger! I need to be able to take care of my own wife," he labored. He stood up and paced the small exam room.

"Why, I can take care of myself," she answered.

"You shouldn't have to," he snapped at her.

"It's nothing! It was an accident, and so what if you fainted!"

Terry walked back in, once again, at an inopportune time. He said, "Draco, a lot of people faint at the sight of blood. It's not that big of a deal. Did you hurt yourself when you fainted?"

Draco glared at Hermione and said, "I'M FINE!"

Hermione shook her head and Terry handed her three vials of potion. He said, "Just take it easy tonight. Don't get the bandage wet. Have someone help you change the bandage later, I gave you some clean gauze and tape in there, too." He turned to Draco and said, "Help her with the bandage later, because she won't be able to change it herself."

"I'll have my mum help me, Terry," she said. Draco took a deep breath to keep from exploding. He told them they were free to go. She took the bag with the three potions and handed them to Draco. After Terry left them in the room, Hermione said, "Do you feel up to disapparating both of us? I do feel a bit woozy."

"Yes, I feel up to disapparating us," he said sarcastically. "Hell, I think I could even handle the fucking bandages, Granger!"

"Well, I didn't know if you fainted at the sight of a wound or not!" she said sincerely.

"No, wounds don't bother me, but gauze and tape scare the shite of me!" he said.

"You're being stupid and immature and I don't like this side of you, so stop it right now!" She held out her right hand, and he grabbed it promptly and he apparated them back to her parents' back patio.

"Perfect timing, lunch is ready," Edward declared.

Hermione told her parents she wanted to go up and wash her hands. Draco followed her upstairs. She deposited the vials of potions on her dresser and went to the bathroom vanity. As she was washing her 'good hand', Draco said, "Well, it seems we both showed an unattractive side of ourselves, in our little folly known as show and tell."

"Pardon?" she asked, drying her hand.

"I showed that I'm a sissy who faints at the sight of blood, and you showed that you're mean and vindictive, which frankly, trumps 'sissy' anytime. While you don't like that side of me, I don't think I like that side of you," he said. He pushed her away from the sink and started to wash his hands.

She stood staring at him in utter shock and disbelief as he washed his hands. She said, "Mean and vindictive? When was I mean and vindictive? Do you know what vindictive means?"

He went out to her bedroom, opened the dictionary on the shelf and looked up vindictive, and then slammed the book shut and said, "Yes, I know what it means and I used it in the right context. You're vindictive, because you made fun of me and wanted to hurt my feelings."

Hermione picked up the book, put it on the bed so she could look up a word with one hand and said, "Stupid, it says, see Draco Malfoy." She slammed the book shut. "I didn't make fun of you! I told Terry, but then I told him you didn't faint, and I can't help it if he came in and overheard! My dad was making fun of you before we left, but I wasn't! Listen, Draco, just because you feel guilty or ashamed or whatever it is you feel about the fainting episode, which by the way, I will never mention again, don't take it out on me!"

"You're the one that keeps pressing the matter!" She continued to rant as she pointed a finger from her good hand at him. "You're the one making ridiculous comparisons and posing stupid 'what ifs' not me. I was trying to keep the mood light by joking about it, because I could tell you were taking it all too seriously. I was trying to relieve your feelings, not hurt them! However, if you think I'm mean or vindictive, I apologize!" She walked past him and headed downstairs.

He yelled after her, "Even your apology was mean!"

He picked up the dictionary and threw it on the floor. Then, in a fit of anger, he opened her closet door, ripped down her poster, threw the pieces in the closet, and stormed outside. He could be mean and vindictive, too!

Hermione was already sitting at the picnic table. Edward was putting the steaks on everyone's plates. Draco walked up to the table and sat across from Hermione, instead of beside her. Neither looked at the other. Phyllis looked at Edward and raised her eyebrows. Edward shrugged. He didn't know what was happening between the two.

"Steak done enough for you, Draco?" Edward asked.

"Fine, Sir," he said.

"Hermione, more salad? I made some without blood." Her mother laughed.

"Sure, whatever," Hermione said, pushing her food around her plate.

"How's the hand, kiddo?" her father asked.

"Fine, well, actually, it hurts a bit," Hermione said.

Draco threw his fork down. Hermione looked over at Draco, but said to her father, "Forget I said that Dad. It feels great. Doesn't hurt at all. If I said it hurt in a mean or vindictive way, I am sorry." She looked back at her food.

"Did they give you something for pain?" her mother asked.

"Yes," she answered, still not looking up.

"How long do you have to wear the bandaged?" she asked Hermione.

Hermione threw her fork this time and said, "Seriously, do we have to keep talking about my fucking hand!"

"Button, Hermione!" her mother yelled.

"Sorry!" she said. "I can't do anything right today." She looked back down at her plate, and soon, she started to cry. "Excuse me, I think I will go get some of that pain potion now, my hand is throbbing. I'm sorry for the language, Mum." She stood up and left the table.

Edward turned to Draco and said, "I hope you at least intend to finish eating your lunch. We don't want you fainting again."

Hermione walked in her room and sat at her desk. She unfolded the paper airplane list and read it again. She couldn't even accomplish a list to make her perfect for him. He accomplished her list. Did that make him perfect and her imperfect? She really wondered. She went to the dresser, took some pain medicine, picked up the list again, and went to lie upon the bed. She actually had gotten a lot of the stupid list done. She wrote the poem, she baked the cookies, she laughed at his joke, she tried to cook his favourite meal, she wore his dirty t-shirt, and she romped with him and got hurt and didn't cry. That just left the talking dirty during sex, the sporting event, and then Sunday in bed, and the passing gas. Not too bad. She folded the list back into the airplane, and as she did, she realized that she was in the wrong for telling Terry about his fainting, and she was being sort of condescending, and frankly, she could have been more sensitive to his insecurities about his manhood, but she wasn't mean or vindictive. Maybe he really didn't know what that word meant.

She pointed the airplane up in the air, and threw it. Draco walked in the room and caught it mid flight. He put it back on the desk, and sat beside her legs. He put his hand on her thigh and said, "We really don't know each other very well do we?"

"I guess not," she said in a small voice.

"I was being overly sensitive about 'the incident'," he admitted.

"The incident?" she asked.

"Well, you weren't going to mention it again, and I can't get myself to admit that I, you know, F-A-I-N-T-E-D (he spelled out the word), so I've decided to call it 'the incident'," he explained. "We will call the hand laceration the 'prior incident'." He laughed.

"Neither of those are going to be code words for sex though, right?" she asked.

"Not at this time," he said, with a crooked smile. "I took it too far, and I hurt your feelings. I'm sorry."

"I didn't take your feeling seriously, especially with all the 'what ifs', and I thought you were just being your normal, annoying self, so I'm sorry, also," she said. She sat up. His arm was still across her legs.

"Does your hand really hurt?" he asked.

"Yes," she said hesitantly.

"Your Mum was upset that we wouldn't be able to enjoy the pool, since your hand in bandaged. So I told her since we were both off work the whole next week, thanks to the prior incident, also known as your cutting your hand, that we would come and spend the day around the pool, on Wednesday, weather permitting," he said. "We wouldn't have time to swim now anyway, since we have to leave for the Manor in a couple of hours. I told my parents we would be there between five and seven, but when they heard we came here at 4pm, they demanded equal timing, so we have to leave here by 4pm. I already told your parents."

"How did they know what time we came here?" she asked.

"I talked to my mum before we left yesterday," he said.

"And yet you're just telling me all of this now," she reasoned.

"Yes, another thing for you to know about me, I am, my dear, a procrastinator."

"That was nice of you," she said, without meaning it. "We have to get in a better frame of mind before going to your parents, because I really have a feeling we need to provide a united front against them, agreed?"

"Yes, agreed," he answered. He touched her cheek with his finger, and with his thumb, her rubbed her cheek. "I am so sorry I was hateful. You weren't vindictive. I guess the word didn't really fit very well. I meant to say insensitive."

"Because that's such a better thing to call your wife," she said slowly, with a patronizing smile.

"Exactly," he said. He took her bandaged hand in his and kissed the palm, right over the bandage, which covered the laceration.

"You have a point, when you say we don't really know each other," she said, as she scooted closer to him, so she could hug him. They faced each other, her legs by his right hip, and they hugged. While still holding him, she said, "I didn't know how sensitive you would be, and that's the point of dating, to get to know these things, so people don't make mistakes like this after they're married. We didn't date before we married, so I didn't get a chance to know these things."

"I think my sensitivity is my problem, not yours," he said quietly in her ear. "You hit the old nail on the head when you said I was embarrassed and ashamed. I really should have been able to take you to Hospital without passing out, and I should be able to change your bandages. Oh, and don't tell Lucius or my mother about that incident, okay? My father will see it as a sign of weakness."

She pushed away from his embrace and said, "I hope not to find myself alone with him to ever have to have a conversation, but it I do find myself in that position, I will talk about the weather."

"He likes hail and thunderstorms the best," Draco said as a joke.

"Do tell," she said back. "I would have thought him more of a sunshine, rainbow type of man."

He ignored her sarcasm, and said, "Don't tell him about the Granger no hyphen Malfoy thing yet either, okay?"

"As far as he is concerned, I am Mrs. Draco Malfoy, frumpy little hausfrau, who only does what you tell me to do, wear what you pick out for me to wear, and you alone tell me what to say and think. Subservient in everyway imaginable."

"That sounds good, stick with that plan," he said. "Hey, Granger, subservient in everyway imaginable? Because right now, I can think of a hundred different ways."

"Too bad we have to leave in a couple of hours," she said. She scooted off the bed and said, "I think I will see if I have any fancy dresses here in this closet. I want a choice of what to wear, and I only brought one dressy dress." She opened her closet door and saw her Justin poster ripped to shreds on the closet floor. The only part still on the back of the door was a corner of the poster, stuck there with a small piece of tape. "JUSTIN!" she said. "What did that mean and vindictive man do to you?" She kneeled down and started to pick up the pieces of poster.

Draco walked over to the closet and said, "I can't believe your dad did that to your poster. That wasn't nice."

She stood up with the pieces of poster in her hand and said, "You know my father didn't do this!"

"I bet that Brian fellow snuck in here and tore it to shreds. He seemed like the type," he said.

"Ryan didn't do this either. Why, Draco? All Justin wanted to do was to hang in my closet and look pretty and remind me of my youth. Did you have to take out your anger at me on him?" She began to put the pieces together on the bed.

There was a knock on the door. "Come down, Draco," Edward said opening the door, "We thought we could play a board game before you leave." Her father left the room and Draco turned and gave Hermione a fearful look.

"Don't look at me," she warned, "You're the one that said you would be happy to just play a board game with them, so run along and play. I need to fix my poster, and then make sure I pack all our things for later. I'm sure he will let you pick the game. He has them all."

"Please, come with me. I don't even know Muggle games. Which one should I pick?" he asked.

"You don't know Muggle games?" she asked. She could be mean and vindictive, and tell him to pick the most boring, long and complicated game there was, but instead, she said, "Pick something call cribbage or maybe Bridge. They aren't board games, they're played with cards, but I think you won't mind them too much." She smiled at him. He walked back up to her and leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"I love you, Granger." He pulled her to him again, and she took a deep breath as his head lowered to hers. He put a hand firmly on her lower back, and the other brushed her cheek, as he lowered her to a dip, and kissed her lips with the slightest, but most tantalizing kiss. He stood her back up and said, "Yes, I think I really do love you."

"I hope you really do, because our love is about to be tested the moment we go to the Manor," she said. He started out of the room and she said, "Wait up. I can pack later. I want to play with you."

"We have to stay up here if you and I are going to play," he said with a wicked gleam, "however, if you're referring to the game, I would be pleased to have you on my team." He took her 'good' hand, which was her right one, and together they walked downstairs.

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	15. Chapter 15

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**Chapter 15 –**

"I think you cheated, Dad," Hermione said.

"He always does," Phyllis said.

Edward smiled at his partner, Draco, and said, "They sound like sore losers to me, my boy."

"I would say so, Ed," Draco agreed. "Usually I'm the one accused of cheating, so I am shocked and appalled that she didn't say it to me."

Hermione pointed at him and said, "If I thought you knew the game better, I would accuse you, but since you just learned the game today, I would say my dad was the one that cheated."

"Bollocks, you're just angry you didn't win," Draco said.

"Button, Draco," Phyllis said, getting up from her chair.

Draco looked funny at Hermione and said, "Did your mother just reprimand me?"

"In a word, yes," Hermione laughed. She got up as well and started out of the dining room and he grabbed her hand and pulled her down on his lap. He kissed her neck.

"We have to leave soon," he said, as he pulled on her earlobe.

Her father picked up the cards and the score pad, and said, "Please, wait until I'm out of the room for the snogging to commence." He left the room and Draco kissed her neck again.

"That feels good," she said. She put her arms around him and hid her face in his neck. "I feel so nervous about later."

"It will be okay, really," he said.

"What shall I call your mum and dad?" she asked.

He gave it serious consideration and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy."

"Really?"

"I'm afraid so, at least until they tell you otherwise," he said seriously.

Mr. Granger walked back in the room and said, "Well, I'm telling you to start calling me Dr. Granger, then, if my daughter has to call them Mr. and Mrs." He patted Draco's arm and leaned down and kissed Hermione's head. She bounded off Draco's lap and headed for the upstairs.

"Mum, come help me pack my things," Hermione said to her mother as she walked in her parents' room.

"Come here a minute, Hermione," her mother said as she sat on her bed. Hermione sat next to her mother. Her mother handed her a long, black box. "This was my Aunt Rose's. She always intended for you to have it. She loved you a lot, that's why she gave you Red Rose cottage, you know. Anyway, I thought you might want to take it with you tonight. I know you're nervous, but I want you never to feel inferior to those people just because they have money and blood status. I know in your world, blood status means a lot, but you're every bit as good as they are."

Hermione opened the box. There was a beautiful ruby and diamond necklace, bracelet, and earring set. "It's beautiful," she said. "It looks valuable."

"It is, and I'm not giving it to you so you can show off to them, I'm giving it to you so that when you wear it, you'll feel close to us, and it will give your courage," she said to her daughter. "And also so they won't think you come from a family of beggars." Her mother laughed at her last statement to her daughter, and so did Hermione.

She didn't know what to say or think. Her mum and dad didn't know what happened at Malfoy Manor during the war, or about Hermione being tortured there, because if they did, they might insist that Hermione not even go, but still, her mum knew she needed courage. Her mother was very intuitive that way. Hermione smiled and hugged her mother. "Thanks, Mum, it's beautiful."

Draco stood outside the door and said,"Where's my present? I need courage, too."

Phyllis laughed and stood up. She walked over to Draco and patted his cheek. She kissed his face and said, "There, that's all you get from me, because you already took my most precious possession from me, my little girl."

"And I will try not to break her," Draco said with a grin.

"You haven't done such a great job so far," she said back.

Draco frown as Mrs. Granger left the room. "Your mother insulted me," he said to Hermione.

She shrugged and said, "She has a point."

His frown deepened, and then he said, "Let's get packed, Hermione."

Her mum stood in the hallway and said, "Draco will help you pack, so just be sure you come tell me goodbye before you leave."

"I will," Hermione said. She walked out of the room with Draco and he took the box from her and looked at the gift again.

"It's really lovely," he said. "It will go perfectly with what I got you." He held out a little black box, which contained a diamond and ruby ring.

"What?" Hermione said. "It matches almost exactly."

"Imagine that," Draco said. "No, I actually told your mum today, when we went to get her car, that I felt bad that I hadn't gotten you a proper engagement ring, and she suggested a ruby and diamond ring. Now I know why. I got it while she was looking at the cars." He took it out of the box and placed it on her finger, over her wedding ring.

"I think the engagement ring goes first," Hermione said.

"Well, we never do anything right, do we?" he asked. She hugged him and he spun her around.

She took the ring off, along with her wedding ring and put them both in the box. "My hand hurts so much right now, and my fingers are a bit swollen, so maybe I'll wear them later." She handed both boxes to Draco.

He had already gotten their new luggage from the car. They packed their clothes in the new luggage. After they packed, Hermione said, "I feel like I'm going into the Lion's den."

"More like the snake pit," he laughed. He brushed the hair away from her face and added, "We should change before we go."

She looked at her sundress, and his outfit, and said, "Why, we can change at the Manor, before dinner."

"We should change now, and still change for dinner," he said, almost as a warning. He said, "Look in your closet. I got you a few new things. They were hiding in the new suitcases."

She opened her closet door, and the first thing she saw was a repaired poster of Justin. She had tried to repair it earlier, but had left it instead. "JUSTIN!" she shouted. She leaned forward and kissed the poster. Draco grimaced. "Thanks, Draco." Next, she noticed two dress bags. She opened the first and it revealed a long red gown. "Red again?"

"Well, they already think you're a scarlet woman," he joked.

She frowned but opened the next bag. It contained a very proper looking lilac short sleeve dress, very pretty, and a white lace shawl. "Not really my style, but lovely nonetheless," she said slowly.

"It's from my mother's dressmaker. She had it made for you, as well as the evening gown," he said as he started to undress.

"Did she think I would show up in a burlap sack?" she asked.

"I think it's her way of being nice, Hermione," he said sincerely. She slipped off her sundress and put on the lilac dress. It was very pretty after all, and it fit her like a glove. It was a bit old fashioned, in Hermione's opinion, and she wasn't one hundred percent sure Mrs. Malfoy's motives were completely altruistic. She probably was afraid Hermione _would_ come in a burlap sack. She slipped on black shoes and put a lightweight shawl around her arms. He put on a black suit, with a silver tie.

She said, "We look like we are going to a wedding, or a church service or something. Or a funeral. Or a…" He put his hand over her mouth.

"I think you look beautiful, and I know for a fact that I look handsome," he said. She bit his hand. "Well, again, I must remind you not to bite me in front of my parents."

"Really, Draco, I wasn't raised in a barn!" she huffed.

Her father walked in the room, and Hermione was thankful he hadn't heard her 'barn comment', after his little _'Draco is too good for them', _rant from earlier. Her dad sat on her bed and said, "You two look like you're dressed up to go to a show."

Her mother walked in and said, "Or a cocktail party."

"I said a wedding, a church, or a funeral," Hermione explained, "Although I don't think I would wear lilac to a funeral."

"May we go?" Draco asked, annoyed.

"Can't wait to get out of here, huh?" her dad asked.

"No, Sir, that's not it at all," Draco said, obviously embarrassed. "It's just, my parents will think its bad taste if we're late, and I'll never hear the end of it. They are quite different than you and Phyllis, and I don't mean in a good way."

"Are you apparating?" Phyllis asked.

"Yes, we are," Draco said.

"Then you best be going," she said. She stood from the bed and kissed them both goodbyes, as did Hermione's dad, which surprised the hell out of Draco, when the older man kissed his cheek. Hermione smiled at him when he smiled at her. They both left the room before Hermione and Draco left, as if sensing they needed a few minutes alone.

Hermione looked around the room for a moment. She wanted to be sure that she didn't forget anything. Did she get her medication? Did she get Draco's list, not that she would get to fulfill any more of it, especially the 'passing gas' one, as she was certain neither Lucius or Narcissa ever passed gas, unless they did it all the time, and that was why they always held their noses so high in the air. She began to tremble. Draco watched her nervous display with a mix of love and amusement. He leaned against the dresser as she began to open and close the suitcases, open and close her purse, enter and leave the bathroom, open and close the closet door. Finally, she sat on the bed.

"I don't want to go."

"Fine, we don't have to." He sat beside her.

"Don't be an imbecile; of course we have to go!" She stood up.

"Fine, let's go." He took her hand. She pulled her hand from his evil clutches. At least that was what she thought.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said. She went in the bathroom, shut, and locked the door. He sat back down on the bed.

She was taking this to the extreme. While he was slightly nervous yesterday to meet her parents, and had a hint of trepidation, she was absolutely shaking with fear and panic. It had to do more with her memories of that day so long ago, than because she was afraid of his parents, and he knew that.

He would do everything in his power to protect her. He knew his parents could be demanding, and haughty, and a bit pretentious, but they loved him and they wanted him to be happy. They wouldn't have even bothered to come to his wedding if they hadn't been ready to support his decision, nor would they have invited them to spend the night. He stood up from the bed and crossed over to the bathroom door. Her nerves were making him nervous, and it was his parents for goodness sakes.

"Granger?" he said from outside the door.

He used his wand to open the bathroom door. She wasn't there. He searched the small room, even looking in the shower, and for some idiotic reason, under the vanity. She left. Disapparated. God only knew where. How dare she disappear! Some Gryffindor she was. He stepped back out to the bedroom, and saw her purse on the bed. He remembered seeing her put her wand in her purse. How did she disapparate without her wand?

He didn't know what to do. Her parents probably already assumed they had left. He started to pace, while he considered his options. He could go downstairs and tell her parents that she had disappeared, but what good would that do?

He could go on to his parents and tell them that she was ill, but they would never believe that.

He could go back to their cottage, send an owl with an apology to the Manor, and hope beyond hope that she hadn't left him for good. He was ready to pick option three when she stepped out of the bathroom.

"I'm ready," she said.

What? He stood up and went back in the bathroom. Was there a trap door in there? He went back to the bedroom and lifted up her arms.

"Where's your wand, Granger?" he asked.

Damn, he knew. "You knew I disapparated, didn't you?" she asked, pulling her wand out of a thigh holster. He shook his head in disbelief, grabbed her wand from her, and placed it in her purse.

"A thigh holster? I didn't even see you put it on or put your wand in it! Are you ready for battle?" he asked. He actually pulled her dress up and ripped it off her thigh. He threw it on the floor.

"Hey, that hurt," she said. "And why can't I wear it? Will your parents have me searched?"

"Possibly," he lied. "Where did you go?"

"Home, but just for a second. I had to get something. I was coming back, obviously, since I did," she said.

"What did you have to get?" he asked. She held up her arm. She had on the bracelet he gave her the weekend he asked her to marry him.

"Do you have the white stone?" she asked. He put his hand in his pocket, and drew out the small, white, polished stone, that she had given him.

"I always carry it with me," he said truthfully. He walked up to her and placed his arms around her body. She seemed to meld into his body, her arms snaking through his and around his waist. He could actually feel her heart beating. He looked at her pretty face, she looked up at him, and she was biting her bottom lip, the way she did when she was anxious. He shook his head and said, "Seriously, woman." Her head went on his chest, and he rested his chin on her curly head. "I will be with you constantly. The first sign of trouble, and we're out of there."

"They probably have wards in place to keep us from disapparating," she said. He laughed, but then he realized that they might, they just might. She added, "What kind of trouble are you expecting?"

"Wizard's duel, attack by a troll, social incompetence, any number of things come to mind," he said playfully. He grabbed her left hand, which made her cry out. "Sorry," he said quickly. He placed her injured hand back down to her side, and grabbed her right hand and brought it up to his mouth. He kissed each finger separately, before kissing her palm. "Have I not protected you thus far in our marriage?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" she asked.

"Fine, let me rephrase that, haven't I tried, to the best of my inept ability, to protect you since we married?"

"I suppose so," she said.

"Then what makes you think I will change my style now?" he asked.

"You will be among your kind. You might go back to hating me, or calling me names, or such," she said with a smile. "Mudblood might just roll off your lips, or you might have the sudden urge to send a hex my way. You might develop a severe case of pureblooditis, and you might suddenly treat me with disdain and become incredibly aloof and snooty." She didn't really think that. Nevertheless, after saying it aloud, she wondered if it might be true.

"My kind?" That was the only thing he deciphered among her nervous ramblings.

"Other Malfoys," she answered.

"I hate to break it to you, Hermione, my dear, but you are one of my kind now, even if you don't have a hyphen in your name. You are one of us," he said. He kissed the end of her nose.

Heaven help her. She was a Malfoy. It was as if she had just now realized that fact, and she wasn't the least bit happy with the idea. She thought she felt the earth tip off its axis. Without another word, Draco linked his arm through hers, grabbed both their suitcases, and said, "You do the honours. Grab my arm and apparate us to the Manor."

"Will I be able to get past the wards?" she asked.

He laughed and said, "Yes, like I said, you are a Malfoy now."

Well, bugger that. She cringed and closed her eyes and tried to think 'happy thoughts' as she disapparated them away.

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	16. Chapter 16

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**Chapter 16 –**

Hermione looked around. They were in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. Even though the only other time she had been here was many years ago, and that time she had passed by briefly, she remembered this place precisely as it appeared in front of her, and she felt as if she was a giant balloon and she would burst at any moment. Draco, oblivious to his wife's distress, and her balloon analogy, put their luggage down and called out, "Mother, Father? We're here."

He turned to Hermione and smiled. She was not even looking his way. She was looking all around. Unbeknownst to Draco, she was looking for all the exits. Draco said, "This way, Granger." She turned to look at him.

"Don't you mean Malfoy?" Lucius said as he approached the pair. Ever imposing, ever domineering, and ever impressive, Mr. Malfoy walked toward the pair, his hand out to grasp his son's hand. Draco shook hands, formally in Hermione's opinion, with his father. Mr. Malfoy turned toward Hermione and he said, "Hermione?" He held out his hand.

She looked at his hand, and then at his face. She felt Draco stiffen beside her, so she took the man's hand. He brought her hand up to his lips, and kissed it. YUCK! That was all she thought. She wondered if she would get a disease. Lucius nodded his head toward her other hand and said, "What happened there, Miss, I mean, Hermione. I keep wanting to call you Miss Granger."

"You can call me that if you want, as I am keeping my maiden name," she said. She could not help herself. She had to say it. He was irritating her already, so if she could irritate him a little, so be it.

Draco was quick to add, "No, she's taking both names, Hermione Granger Malfoy, with no Hyphen, so really, Malfoy is her last name, and Granger is her new middle name."

Hermione looked at Draco, about to protest, but he put his arm around her and pinched her arm. She looked back toward Lucius and said, "No Hyphen."

"Then I shall call you 'No Hyphen'. So, No Hyphen, what happened to your hand?" he said slowly, as if she were mentally deficient.

Draco laughed, he did think the whole 'no hyphen' thing was funny, and he answered for her by saying, "She was making a salad, and I kissed her neck, which distracted her, and she cut her hand."

"Ah, why was she making a salad?" he asked, with eyebrows raised.

Hermione wanted to say, 'to eat, stupid', but Draco again answered by saying, "Remember, they are Muggles, they don't have house elves."

"But I thought you said they were rather well off, by Muggle standards, so surely they have a cook, and a staff that waits on them?" Lucius asked.

Again, before Hermione could say anything Draco said, "They have a cleaning lady, who comes in a few times a week, but they cook for themselves. Muggles like to do that."

Lucius picked up her sore hand and said, "Thus, the results." He dropped her hand, which actually hurt worse now than when she cut herself, and said, "Your mother is getting ready for the party tonight, so you will have to let me entertain you for a while. I thought we could have tea in the conservatory." He started down the hall. He yelled for a house elf. "Take Master Malfoy and Mistress Malfoy's bags to their wing, please."

'Our wing?' she thought to herself. Before she could question that inane thought, she pulled on Draco's sleeve. He looked down at her.

"A party?" she inquired.

"Why did you think you I got you the gown, for tea?" he asked back with a slight, nervous laugh. Lucius looked at them and Draco said, "She thought the gown was for tea."

Lucius laughed and said, "We aren't quite that formal, my dear. Come, take my arm and I will escort you to the conservatory. Draco, go to the kitchens and say hello to your mother, and then come join us."

Hermione's eyes pleaded with Draco not to leave her, but he was already in 'Malfoy Land' she could tell, because he had forgotten his promise not to leave her and also her worries and fears, so it didn't surprise her when he said, "Yes, Sir," and left them. So much for his promise to never leave her alone with them.

Draco walked away as Lucius took Hermione down a long hallway that led to the conservatory. "So, my dear, what shall you call me? Mr. Malfoy seems too formal, you already have a daddy and mummy, and Dad seems so," he paused, "common."

"I don't call my mother and father, mummy and daddy, at least not since I was five, and I think I should call you 'Sir', as it works for Draco," she said.

"You are a riot, my dear. No, call me Father, I would like that." He looked at her right hand in his and stopped. He put her right hand down and picked up her left hand again, carefully this time, and said, "Where is your wedding ring?"

"I took it and my engagement ring off, because of my injured hand," she explained.

"Well, you must put them back on before the party tonight. We do not want anyone to mistake you for the help, do we? We want everyone to know exactly who our son's one and only wife is," he sneered. He tried to continue to steer her over to a table in the greenhouse, but she stopped cold.

"Listen, Mr. Malfoy, I hope you don't take me for a fool, because I would never mistake you for one, so grant me the same courtesy, please." She took a deep breath and continued, "Hitherto, I have refrained from being disrespectful, and I realize this match is unlikely, unwarranted, and unwanted, by you at least, but it is a choice your son made, and I am married to him because I love him, and for no other reason. Believe me; I would not subject myself to coming to this house again if I did not love him. Do not mistake that for a moment. I love him, I am his wife, so please, at least be cordial toward me, and I shall be likewise to you."

He smiled. He said, "You are correct in your assumption, Miss Granger, oh, no, it's Mrs. Granger 'no hyphen' Malfoy, right? As I said, you are correct, I am not happy about this union, but what father would be? You are of lower birth than my son. It is a fact that cannot be denied. My son was anticipated, more than anticipated, _expected_, to marry a pureblood. That cannot be denied. I will never fully accept you. That cannot be denied, either. However, I shall be cordial to you, and I do apologize for any cutting remarks I have made thus far. I shall treat you with the respect that a wife of my son deserves, at least until the time he gains his faculties and divorces you, or if we are lucky, decides for the annulment, the terms of which I intend to present to him sometime tonight."

His honesty shook her. She usually liked people who were forthcoming, but there was nothing about Mr. Malfoy that could recommend him to her. Draco entered the room and said, "Mother will join us shortly. She said we should start tea without her."

Hermione turned to Draco and said, "I believe your father has a pressing matter he needs to present to you, Draco. If you don't mind, I'll forgo tea. Could you ask one of the elves to show me to our room so I can freshen up?" Hermione walked out of the room. Draco looked at his father and stepped out of the room with Hermione.

"Is your hand bothering you?"

It wouldn't be a lie, so she said, "Yes, it hurts very badly. Go back and visit with your father, as I said, he plans to make an interesting suggestion to you. He already presented it to me, and frankly, as each second passes, I think it's an excellent idea. Please, call an elf for me." She turned away from him, and felt her chest constrict, as tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

Draco took her arm, and leaned down to look at her. He tried to turn her around, as his mother walked down the hall. "Haven't you all started tea?" she asked.

"Mrs. Malfoy, my apologies, I must lie down a moment, I feel ill, will you call an elf to show me to our room?" Hermione pleaded.

"Yes, my dear, I see you are in no state for tea. I shall have an elf take you upstairs immediately, excuse us, Draco, go back to your father. I will see to your wife," Narcissa said. She took Hermione's arm and led her back toward the stairs.

Draco watched them walk down the hall and he realized he already went back on his word. He left her alone with his father, just as his father must have wanted, and already, Lucius did something unthinkable, and already, Draco felt like the world's biggest heel for leaving his wife alone in the man's presence for one nanosecond. Draco stormed back in the room and said, "Excuse me, sir, but what did you say to my wife?"

XOXOXOXOX

Narcissa started up the stairs, with Hermione close behind. Hermione said, "Really, Mrs. Malfoy, an elf could show me to our room."

"Nonsense, I don't mind showing, you, and please call me Narcissa," she said, smiling back at Hermione.

Hermione thought the older woman was still very beautiful. Draco always spoke lovingly of his mother, so perhaps she would find herself someday being fond of the older woman; after all, no one should be responsible for the actions of their families. Hermione would have to remember that , so that she wouldn't take out her anger at Lucius on Draco.

They started down a very long hallway, and Hermione said, "I appreciate the dresses, Mrs., I mean, Narcissa. The gown is lovely and this one is very pretty," she said.

Narcissa stood outside a set of high, white, double doors and said, "I thought the colour would suite you. Well, here is your wing," she said. She opened the double doors to reveal a long hallway, with doors off to each side.

"You could just tell me which door, and I can go on from here," Hermione said, stepping into the hallway.

"Which door?" Narcissa asked confused. A look of conclusion crossed her beautiful face and she said, "My dear, all of these are your rooms. As I said, this is your wing. There are ten rooms in all, so I hope that will be big enough for you. I already had them redecorated, and I hope they are to your taste, but I realize when you move in, you might want to put your own personal touch to them, so I don't mind."

Narcissa started down the hall and this time, Hermione remained rooted to her spot. Narcissa turned back around and said, "Coming dear?"

XOXOXOXOX

Draco stormed up to his father demanding to know what happened between him and Hermione. "Sit down, Draco, and remember not to raise your voice to me in my own house," the elder Malfoy said to his son, as he took a drink of tea.

Draco sat down opposite his father and he said, "Father, please, don't do or say anything to upset my wife tonight, or we shall leave." He had to put his foot down now, he realized, or it would be increasingly hard to do.

"Draco, I did or said nothing to her out of the way; I can't help it if she is overly sensitive. She asked for truthfulness between us, in a polite way, I might add, so I was truthful and so was she. We both admitted that we would never be comfortable with the other, and that we would never fully accept the other."

Draco was having a hard time breathing. He was sure that Hermione didn't precipitate that particular conversation, so he said, "What led to this truthfulness treaty?"

"Draco, let's you and I agree to the same amendment, and be truthful as well," Lucius said, ignoring his son's question. "I told your wife I fully intended to bring up the topic of annulment to you this weekend, and I do. If not an annulment, than I suppose a divorce will do. I told her you were expected to marry a pureblood. I told her I would never accept the fact that you married below your station."

Draco stood up and put his hand up, because he didn't want to hear another word. "I shall not divorce my wife, and hopefully she will never want to divorce me. I will never seek an annulment, because there are no grounds. I married her because I love her. If my wife is not accepted in this home and by you, than neither am I. This was a mistake, not my marriage, but my belief that you would be accepting of this. My mistake, not yours. We will leave immediately." He started out of the room.

"Get back here, boy," his father bellowed.

XOXOXOXOX

"Coming dear?" Narcissa repeated.

"We have a wing?" Hermione repeated, "And you are under the impression that we are moving in here? When is this expected to occur?"

"After your honeymoon is over, of course," she said.

Hermione took a step backwards without realizing that she had done so. She swallowed and said, "Does Draco know this?" Please say no, please say no!

"Well, I've not discussed it with him, but yes, he has always known that when he married, he would come to live here, after all, he is our only son, and this will be his house someday. Also, if you are to be the lady of the Manor someday, it's best that you learn all the responsibilities that come with it." Narcissa walked back toward Hermione.

"What else is EXPECTED of me?" Hermione said carefully.

"You will quit your job, as will Draco of course, I still can't believe he works, and you will produce an heir, hopefully by this time next year. My dear, there are many responsibilities that now fall on you, and I know you are a highly intelligent girl. You must have anticipated this."

"I feel ill; I really do need to lie down. Thank you for bringing me up here, if you will just point to the bedroom door, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said in a small voice. As soon as she could, she was getting the hell out of there.

"The last door on the right, my dear," Narcissa said. "I will have some food brought up. Rest and clean up. Our guests will not be arriving until around seven o'clock tonight. Hopefully you will feel better by then." She turned to leave, when she noticed that Hermione had yet to move from the same spot. She walked up to the younger woman, which forced Hermione finally to look up from the floor, to meet her gaze.

Narcissa said, "I hope my husband didn't say anything to upset you. I am happy Draco has found love, and I know he loves you, I can tell by the way he looks at you, and smiles when he talks about you." She smiled and walked out of the wing. Hermione ran down to the last door, on the right, and threw herself on the bed.

XOXOXOXOX

Draco could not believe his father's gall. No, actually, he could believe it. The proper emotion would not be surprise, but sorrow. He felt sorry that his father thought that way about his wife, and he felt sorry that his wife had to withstand the worst of his unmitigated prejudices. While Draco and Lucius were arguing, his mother came to the conservatory, held up a hand, and said, "There will be no more fighting. Draco, go up and see to your wife. Tell her we are sorry and that whatever was said to her will never be repeated. Then, come down to the lounge in about an hour. I have a wedding present to give to the both of you." She took one look at Lucius, and he sat back down, crossed his legs, and turned his head. Draco stormed out of the room like a spoiled child who didn't get his way.

He ran upstairs and found Hermione on the bed, with her back toward the door. She had slipped off the lilac dress, and was lying on the bed in her bra and knickers, with the white shawl thrown haphazardly over her legs. He came up to lie beside her and said, "Move over, you're on my side."

"Go to the other side," she said.

"I want my side," he said.

"Haven't you learned yet, you don't always get what you want," she said quietly.

"Yes I do," he said. He laid beside her on the narrow piece of bed, since she wouldn't move over, and put his arms around her so he wouldn't fall off. He said, "I know what my father said to you, he told me. I told him we would never divorce or seek an annulment, and that I love you very much, and if he couldn't make you feel welcome, we would leave."

She turned to face him and in the process, he moved her over. "Cheeky bastard," she said. She put her hand on his face and said, "Why is your mother under the notion that we are to move here? Did you give her that impression, or is she just acting under her own accord?" He didn't know what to say. Of course, his mother assumed they would live here. In all truthfulness, so did Draco. His silence spoke volumes to her. She removed her hand from his face and tried to sit up. "I see," she said.

He pulled her back down. "I don't think you do," he said. He inhaled deeply and then said, "This is my home Hermione. I will inherit this house someday. I will live here someday."

"And I get no say in the matter?" she asked. Again, he said nothing in return. She pushed away from him and said, "I should get dressed again. I was afraid to lie down with the dress on, in case I wrinkled it."

Why was she telling him that? They had real things to discuss, and she was talking about wrinkling a stupid dress. He said, "I've never imagined myself living elsewhere." He pulled her back toward him, and she was forced to comply.

"Frankly," she said, with his arm now across her stomach, "I have no desire to live here any time soon, if ever."

His eyes lit up and he started to stroke her stomach and arms as he said, "You would actually really love it here. The gardens and woods are expansive, and there is a stream that runs across the property. Sometimes, you can walk for hours and not leave the grounds. It's secluded and private. There is a stable with horses, and my father put in an inside pool ten years ago. There's a large music room, and the library is almost as impressive as the library at Hogwarts." He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"What about the dungeons?" she said.

"Hermione," he said back. He had nothing to say on that matter.

"If you like it here so much, why weren't you living here when we met?" she asked.

"I was," he admitted.

She sat up again. "What? You told me you had a large flat in London."

"I had this wing, and it's like my own flat. It's large, and private, with its own kitchen and dining room. My mother redecorated the entire place. I told her what your cottage looked like, so she tried to make our wing mimic your style." He actually pushed her back to her back, and he straddled her waist. He did it to make sure she didn't escape. "Honestly, I went weeks sometimes without seeing my parents, so it won't even be like living with them."

"I don't want to live here," she said bluntly. "I know this is something we should have discussed before we married, but we didn't really have time, did we? You apparently just assumed, and still do, that we would live here, and I just assumed that we would have our own house someday. Some place to call our own. A place to raise our family. I can't imagine raising a child here."

He took off his jacket and threw it over the bedpost. He swung his leg over her body and stood by the bed. He removed his tie and started to walk around the room. She stayed on her back, somewhat afraid, because she didn't know him well enough to be able to decipher what this particular action meant.

"I was raised here!" he finally said, coming back to put one knee on the bed. He pointed his finger at her. "Did I turn out so bad? Was I privileged, sure, I was. Was I spoiled, damn right. Was I loved, unbelievably, the answer to that is a resounding yes, too! So tell, me what would be so terrible about raising a child here?"

She put her hands to her face and didn't know what to say. She sat back up as he went to stand at the end of the bed. "Draco, if we lived here, my parents could never come visit! I could never see my friends again! We would be isolated! I would feel uncomfortable twenty-four hours a day! I would never feel like this was my home!"

"I used to have friends visit, all the time," he said, now calmer. He sat back on the bed. He reached for her good hand.

"Harry Potter?" she said, removing her hand from his. "My best friend is Harry Potter, and I know for a fact he wouldn't be welcomed in your father's home. I'm not even welcomed here! In addition, my parents are Muggles, Draco! Your father would never allow Muggles to stay, even here in our wing!"

He shook his head and said, "What do you think my father would do to your parents, Hermione? Use them for bait or target practice? Mount their heads in the billiard room?" He stood back up.

"People have died here before, you know," she said quietly.

"Damn it all to bloody hell!" he yelled. He picked up a chair that was in front of a makeup vanity and he threw it across the room. She fell back on the bed, rolled to her side, and started to cry. "STOP CRYING, DAMN YOU!" His order merely made her cry louder.

"So this is how you are at the Manor?" she asked through her tears, in a hoarse whisper.

She was right, of course. His actions were uncalled for, and he really hadn't given her time to consider the proposition. This was all too much at one time. He sat on the bed again, and reached for her arm. At least she didn't recoil from his touch. "Hermione, I am so sorry. Don't be afraid of me, because I swear I would never hurt you."

"I know," she said very quietly.

"Let's get through this weekend, and take one day at time, and then we can think about all the rest of this at another time. There's no hurry. We live at Red Rose cottage right now, and that's fine with me," he said truthfully. He leaned over and kissed her arm. "No decisions have to be made right now."

Still not looking at him, she said, "If we were just engaged, or even just dating, and not married yet, this would be a deal breaker."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"This subject that you are so adamant to avoid, it would probably cause me to throw my engagement ring back in your face. It would cause you to storm off and not return. However, we're married, so we can't do that," she said truthfully.

He leaned over her body, and kissed her cheek. "Actually, if you threw that massive ring I got you back at me, it might mar my incredibly good looks, and I would cry, and there would be a big thing, and it would be in all the papers that you permanently disfigured the best look wizard in the United Kingdom."

"Fine, no throwing of rings." She turned back to her back. "Besides, you might bleed, and then you would faint," she added sarcastically. He pinched her bum and she swatted his hand. "I won't say I won't ever live here, I'm just saying if I was asked to live here right now, I would have to say no, even if that meant you and I couldn't be together." Draco thought that sounded like a no to him. She continued by saying, "We can broach the subject at a later date, but right now, we have more pressing matters. Your father hates me."

"My mother will take care of him. She's probably down there giving him a good going over right now. What can I do to make you feel better?"

"You could go down there and beat him up for me." She laughed.

"I don't know, the old man's still got it, and he has that large cane, and he wouldn't be above using it. He fights dirty. Again, I might become permanently disfigured. I bruise easily, you know, and my looks are about all I have to offer you."

"True," she said. She looked over his shoulder, distracted. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

"Shall I change your bandage?" he asked. "I want to prove I am more than good looks. I can change bandages, and I'm a wonderful lover, or so I'm told. You're almost undressed, as am I. Shall I show you?" Her heart melted at his soothing words. She nodded.

He took off his shirt, and removed his trousers. He went to lock the door, although he knew his parents would never dream of coming up here, unlike her parents, they respected privacy. He lowered himself to the bed, and immediately turned to his back, bringing her around with him. With her on top of him, he began to kiss her with a searing, soul-searching kiss of wonder and enlightenment. His hands held her to him, so that their chests were one, their hearts were one, their souls…one. As they kissed, he reached down one hand and stroked her hip and her bottom. He drew one of her legs up and stroked the calf, before putting his hand under her knee. Hermione began to show her gratitude with hums and low moans.

She moved slightly on top of him, his arousal pressing into her hip. He rolled them back over, so they were both on their sides. He unfastened her bra, and threw it on the floor. He moved her to her back, so he could worship her breasts. He loved how round and firm they were. He loved how they looked, how they tasted, how they would peek above her blouse when she wore a daring, low cut Décolletage. He loved the feel of their hard points when they touched his bare chest.

He looked up at her and said, "You are so tempting. Now I know how Adam was tempted by Eve. She probably put the apple on her bosom and said, 'have a bite' and that was the end of the Garden of Eden."

"And I know how Eve was tempted by the snake," she said, with a small chuckle.

"Please, you are ten times more tempting than I," he said. "Your lips are red and swollen, even when they haven't been kissed, they look like they have. They make me go mad with hunger for their taste. Your hair looks like you have just woken up from a good night's sleep, preceded by a wonderful night of sex. You make me want you, even when you do nothing overtly sexual." His hand traveled from her neck, to her collarbone, down the side of her ample bosom, to her hip. He pulled down her knickers and threw them on the floor. He sat up on the bed, and moved his hands up and down both legs.

"Your legs are so long, that they make me want to hike you up on my hips, so that you will wrap them around me, and pin me against you," he said. He kissed her stomach.

She put her hand on his shoulder. She closed her eyes. He looked up at her face as she licked her own lips. He smiled a seductive smile, and kissed her breasts, around and around the hard nub of each, never once going in for the kill. He wanted to torture her, in his own special way. His eyes flicked back up to her face, and she stared right at him. He saw her desire, but he saw something else, and he wasn't in the mood at the moment to try to interpret the meaning of the look she was bestowing him, because if he thought about it, he would realize that there was a hint of sorrow in her eyes, and that was something he wasn't ready to face.

She lifted her arms back around his shoulders until their lips met again. His tongue darted in her mouth, to coax hers out. He licked around her lips, and sucked on the bottom lip, before playing with her tongue again. He urged her legs open with his leg, and he continue to press his thigh down on her apex. His kisses continued, feathery soft, down her neck and shoulders, around each breast. He finally took the tip of one in his mouth and she arched her back. "Close, are we?" he asked softly, searching her eyes again. Good, this time, he only saw desire.

His hands and mouth continued to stroke and caress each mound until she arched her back and cried out. She put her good hand in his hair, and urged him closer, though he couldn't get any closer unless they shared a body. He positioned himself between her legs and placed her head between his hands, his upper body weight on his elbows.

"I want to watch you, and memorize the look on your face, when I make you cry out in ecstasy and agony." He entered her quickly, and began to stroke her inner walls with his long, hard length. Silver eyes met brown eyes, and she watched as his pupils dilated as his pleasure increased. Her pleasure rolled forward and then back again, as the first wave crashed around her, and then receded.

"Scream for me, Hermione," he urged. He could drown in her eyes, and die from the pleasure she was offering. It was as if something inside him snapped as his gratification mounted. He kissed her hard, and she moaned in his mouth. She was startled that her pleasure should come around so quickly. Usually, it took her a while. As the first wave of pleasure hit her, she did say his name, over and over, repeatedly. He kissed her again, and she moaned down deep in her throat.

He clasped both her hands in his, mindful of her injury, he started his laborious movements back and forth, and nothing prepared either one of them for her sudden jerking movements, and then her loud scream. He clenched his teeth, as a burst of pleasure jolted through him as she road her final wave. She removed her hands from his to hold his shoulders once again, his muscles rippling under her touch. He fell on top of her, and she continued to make a loud humming noise as she breathed in and out.

He pulled her to him, and she hid her face in the pillow. He threw his leg over her, possessively and said, "We will live here someday, and that's just they way it is. I'm sorry, but you can't ever leave me, because I would die without you."

She looked up at his face, and she saw only sincerity and truthfulness. She put her hand on his cheek and she said, "You might have to learn about priorities, and figure out what is really important to you, because I say that I shall never live here, even if I have to leave you."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX


	17. Chapter 17

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Chapter 17**** – **

"You might have to learn about priorities, and figure out what is really important to you, because I say that I shall never live here, even if I have to leave you," she stated.

He sat up quickly. "I thought you said it was just a 'no' for now, not a 'no' forever," he said.

"And I thought you said we had time to think about things, and consider things, and that you weren't going to bring it up again right now," Hermione spat back, also sitting up, "but what you meant was that what you say goes. What you meant was you fully expect to get your way. What you meant to say was that living here means more to you than our marriage." She threw her legs to the floor, and walked to the bathroom.

She stood in the bathroom door, and her stunned husband stared at her in complete and utter horror. She said, "I didn't mean what I said, but I wanted you to have a taste of your own medicine, so to speak. You can't just say something so absolute and unwavering, and you can't just decide something on your own because it's what you want, especially as it affects us both. You are an adult now, a married man, and everything you do has consequences for both of us. If you aren't prepared for that, I will stand by my word; you need to get your priorities in order."

She picked up her purse, her underwear and her dress, and headed toward the bathroom.

Draco picked up his clothing, and went to use the facilities in the guest bedroom in their wing. He needed some time alone to mull over what she said.

As he stood in the shower, he realized she had a point. He could not just make a blanket statement like that. He could not just say, 'we are living here and that was that', but she was taking things a bit far, too. She would not even consider living here. She did not even seem like she wanted to give it a chance. When she said this situation was a 'deal breaker', was she serious?

He started to dry off and he came to one singular conclusion. His marriage to her was more important than living at the Manor. It was. He wasn't sure he wanted to share that little tidbit with her yet, because he would still like the chance to change her mind. Starting tomorrow morning, he would set about trying to show her the good points of living here. He would take her for a walk, (he hoped it didn't rain tomorrow), he would show her the library; (she loved books, probably more than she loved some people). He dressed quickly and went back to the master bedroom. As he suspected, she was sitting there, in the chair he had thrown earlier (in his fit of a childish temper tantrum), because she would never dream of going downstairs without him, not here, not now.

He glared at her from the doorway. She hadn't even looked up and acknowledged him yet. He didn't know what to say. He should apologize, but so should she, so he didn't know where he stood and what it all meant.

"My mother said we need to come down soon, because she has a wedding present to give us," he said.

She stood up and said, "I got my bandage wet in the shower. Will you help me to change it?"

He nodded and walked over to the opened suitcase on the bed. He took out the bandages and she walked over to him. She talked him through the whole 'operation'. He thought her wound looked slightly inflamed, and certainly painful. He mentioned this to her, but she said it was fine, and she was the professional. He asked her if she needed some pain medicine.

She said she had already taken it.

He asked her if she needed anything else.

She said no.

He asked her if she would really leave him.

She said nothing. Nothing. For what felt like hours, but was probably just the longest two minutes of his life, she said nothing. Finally, she looked up at him and said, no.

He grasped her good hand in his and pulled her into his chest. He put her arms around her, as she stood almost limp, her arms at her sides. He felt like she was broken. He felt like more than just her hand was bandaged, but that her soul was bound and bandaged, too. "I'm sorry, Granger. I told you I would give you time to consider things, so I shall, and if by any chance, you really, really, don't want to live here, at least not yet, we won't. I have my priorities straight." She looked up at his face. "However, you shouldn't question my priorities either. I love you, and you know that. I would always choose you first."

"I don't want to manipulate you into saying that," she countered. "I will try very hard to keep an open mind, and consider all possibilities, alright?"

He nodded and kissed her forehead. His lips lingered against her skin. He thought she felt warm. It must have been from the hot shower. He let his lips travel down her face, to taste her mouth. As he thought, perfection.

He turned and with her hand in his, he walked with her out of the bedroom. He wondered if she had even looked at the rest of the rooms. He said, "Can we take a quick tour. I just want to see how my mother redecorated. She always hated my taste, which I know you do as well."

She was curious, so she said, "You're the tour guide, and I will be the tourist."

He headed to the room across from their room. It was one of the other bedrooms. His mother had decorated it in soft blues and whites. It was very light and airy. Hermione walked around the room and touched all the belongings. His mother had one of their wedding photos in a frame on the bedside table. She had really had put a lot of thought into things.

Next, they went to the other bedroom, next to their room. It was painted in greens. It was obvious a nursery, as there was a large round canopy crib right smack dab in the middle of the room. Hermione's eyes widen and Draco had the nerve to laugh. "Her subtle way of telling us that what she wants."

They headed across the hall again, to a room that was decorated in warm reds and golds. Hermione's study, of course. There were wall to ceiling bookcases, already filled to the brim, and brand new books, which looked like they had never been opened yet, as all the spines were stiff and smooth. Hermione wondered how Narcissa got so much accomplished in such a short time, as Draco had just moved out last Wednesday, but then remembered that money could accomplish almost anything.

They went to the room next to this, and it was meant to be Draco's haven. It was still decorated in a modern style, rather cold with black and silver colours running rampant throughout.

As there was a bathroom off each bedroom, Hermione figured there would be no other bathroom, but across from the studies, next to the nursery, was a large bathroom. Next to the large bathroom, was a large room, which had pocket doors leading to the room next to it. Two rooms that could open into one and it must have been the lounge. It was decorated in creams and beiges and had two large couches, a massive fireplace, and was cozy and comforting. There was a door that led to a large balcony, which went all the way across the outside of the house, and ended in front of their bedroom. Across from this room was a formal looking dining room, and next to the dining room was a full service kitchen.

Draco walked her to the large set of white double doors, and he started to pass through, when she pulled on his hand. "That's only nine rooms, if you count the adjoining rooms of the lounge as two. Your mother said there were ten rooms. What's the other room?"

"Off the kitchen is a room for our house elves. Normally, the elves at the Manor live off our kitchens, but I told my mother about your concern for fair treatment of elves, so she took what was originally the breakfast room, and changed it to a room for the two elves that would serve us."

"Oh," she said. She just realized something. Draco was trying to convince her to live here, whether it was conscious or not. This was a lovely 'apartment'. Someone would be crazy not to want to live here. She looked up at him and said, "You sneaky thing you."

Reading her thoughts, he said, "You're the one that asked for the tour." He smiled and they started downstairs.

Walking down the grand staircase, Draco said, "You should see this place at Christmas. We have a tree in every room, and the whole place looks like a winter wonderland."

"Nice," she said. He trotted down the last few stairs and waited for her at the bottom. She seemed to be lingering on the steps. She looked over the banister. She was looking at Lucius, who was looking up at her.

Draco looked from one to the other, and then in a dash of chivalry, he ran back up the stairs and said, "How dare I leave my wife alone to walk down the stairs." He kissed her hand and held it in his. He said softly, so only she would hear, "I shall not leave you alone with him again, I promise."

She nodded. They reached the landing and Lucius looked at his pocket watch. "Your mother said to meet us in an hour, and it's been 72 minutes, Draco. I had hoped that being married you would learn to be more timely."

"I was giving Hermione the tour of our wing," he explained.

Lucius came around to Hermione's other side, and linked his arm through hers. She stiffened immediately. "Did you like what you saw, my dear?"

"The house is beautiful, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said formally.

"Father, remember?" he said.

She thought it was best not to contradict him at the moment. Lucius opened a set of double doors, and she walked between the men into the large drawing room. This was the same room where she was tortured by Bellatrix, so many years ago. She looked at the carpet. It was the same ornate Oriental rug. She would remember it always. She remembered that she tried to find a place on the rug to focus, while she withered in pain, that night so many years ago. She truly felt faint. She started to breathe hard, and looked over at Draco.

"Mother," Draco said, as his mother came in the room, "It's a warm afternoon. Let's go to the patio, and you can give us our present out there. I think Hermione needs some air." He understood immediately why she suddenly felt so distressed. Without waiting for a response, Draco ushered her outside.

"The woman seems to have a weak constitution. Not good for baring children, I dare say," Lucius told his wife.

"What do you expect, Lucius," Narcissa scolded. "This is the very room that Bella used the unforgivable curse on the woman, when she was still just a girl. One doesn't forget something like that so quickly, and I for one, don't want to do anything from this point on to add to her discomfort or pain." Narcissa walked out to the patio, followed by her husband.

"Hermione, Draco," Narcissa said, "I have a wedding present for both of you."

"Decorating the wing was enough, Mother," Draco said. He looked over at Hermione, to gauge her response. The weird thing was, she looked blank.

"No, that wasn't your present, these are," she said. She pulled out an ornate wooden box from her robe pocket, and presented it to Draco. He opened the box and inside were matching rings, solid platinum, with diamonds around each ring. "These were my parent's wedding rings. I know you have nice little gold bands, but I thought these would be nicer. If you don't want to wear them and just want to keep them for special occasions, like the party tonight, I would quite understand," she said with a smile.

Hermione looked at the beautiful rings, and then to Narcissa. "Thank you, Ma'am." Hermione reached over and touched one of the rings.

Draco took the woman's ring from the box and slipped it on Hermione's finger. It fit her exactly. He put the other one on himself and put the box in his pocket. "Thank you, Mother." Draco stood up and kissed his mother. "Thank you, Father," and he shook his father's hand.

Hermione sat passively, glued to the same spot, and said a quiet, "Thank you, Sir."

Lucius crossed his arms and glared at the younger woman. "Are you ill, woman?" he asked bluntly.

"FATHER!" Draco said.

Lucius pointed at her and said, "Well, look at her. She looks like she is about to fall over any minute now. She's very ill, I tell you." Draco put his hand on her forehead. She was burning hot.

"Mother?" Draco pleaded. He didn't know what to do with a sick wife. Narcissa walked over to Hermione and pressed her lips to her forehead. Hermione looked up at the older woman, as she said, "She definitely has a fever."

Hermione looked back toward Draco and fell off the stone bench, and landed on the paved patio at their feet.

When she woke up, she was back in their bed. "Hi, you sicko," Draco smiled down at her, as he sat next to her on the bed. "Now, before you waste your breath talking let me tell you what happened. First, you fainted, so now we have something in common. You have an infection in your hand. Your little healer friend, Boot was it, is probably going to be looking at a big lawsuit, according to my father, and our personal Healer came and gave you a personal house call, and said you will be right as rain in the morning!"

She shook her head and said, "What?"

Lucius walked up to the bed and said, "Perhaps the infection has traveled to her brain. Or maybe she is still fevered and delirious. Tell her again, Draco."

"No, don't," Hermione said. She shut her eyes. With her eyes still shut she said, "Does this mean I won't be able to go to the party tonight?"

"No, you can still go," Draco said. He kissed her forehead and moved his mouth to her ear and said, "You can't get out of it that easy, infection or not, you have to come if only to keep me company."

Hermione tried to sit up but Draco pushed her back down. "I think we should rest a while, and then get dressed for the party. My mother had some food brought up." He moved a tray closer to her on the bed.

Lucius cleared his throat and said, "Well, I will talk to you both later. Don't be late for the party." He started out of the room, but turned back and said, "Hermione, I hope we can start over fresh. I mean that sincerely." He walked out of the room.

Hermione took a bite of the fruit, which was on the tray, and said, "Why is he being nice all of the sudden."

"He saw how worried I was for you, and he said he realized how much I must love you. I was frantic. I picked you up and started yelling, and he kept a level head, and he even took you from me and brought you up here," Draco said, as he popped a grape in his mouth.

She looked horrified and said, "Your father CARRIED ME?"

"Yep, all the way up here, and I think he might have copped a feel, but I'm not for certain, so don't quote me on that," Draco said, with an evil smile. "But the point is that he said he's sorry, and he never says that to anyone."

"He didn't say, no, he said, no, he didn't say he was sorry," she pointed out, mumbling over her words, "He said he wanted to start fresh."

"And translated from Lucius speak, that means he's sorry," Draco said with a shrug.

Hermione fell back down on the bed and said, "Where did he touch me exactly, so I can go wash those spots."

Draco said, "Allow me." He leaned over and kissed her neck. "He touched her there, so I will lick it clean." He licked a long line down up her neck, and she giggled and pushed him away.

"My hand does feel slightly better," Hermione said, holding up her hand.

"Be thankful we didn't go with my father's suggestion of amputation," Draco said with a joke.

"Funny," she said. She took a drink of ginger ale and said, "What did your mother do while all of this was happening."

"She's the one that called the Healer," Draco said, stealing another piece of food from her tray. She hit his hand and he said, "I'm hungry, too! Anyway, my mother is generally the levelheaded one. She knows I'm hopeless, as you have since found out as well. I confessed to them that I fainted today."

Hermione spit out her ale and as she wiped her mouth with her napkin she said, "What did they say to that."

"Well, let me ask you something, if my father called me a big pussy, do you think he meant that as a form of endearment?"

Hermione laughed harder than she had laughed all day. "He didn't!" she finally managed to say.

"He did, but not using those exact words. He said something like, 'you are a Malfoy, boy, and Malfoy's are men and do manly things, like man stuff'."

"Was that the direct quote?" she asked with a grin.

"Well, now I am paraphrasing," he admitted.

"If that big bad man says even one more nasty thing to my husband, he will have to deal with me!" she said. He pulled her to his chest. She picked up another cracker and cheese and said, "I know a curse or two that I could throw his way, and he would be none the wiser. I happen to know a baldness curse which would make even Lucius cry like a pussy!"

"Button, Granger," Draco laughed. "A baldness curse, huh? Remind me never to make you that angry. I like my hair, a lot actually."

She looked up at him and put her hand in his hair. "I like it, too. It's pretty."

"It's handsome," he corrected.

"It's beautiful," she said, still stroking his hair.

"It's manly beautiful," he said. He kissed her cheek. "The way I see it, we have two hours before the party. We don't need to change and get ready until around six o'clock, so we actually have an hour to kill before then. You aren't up to lovemaking again, being all weak and sickly. What do you say to another game? This time, a Malfoy game. I dare you to play a Malfoy game with me. Up to it, Granger?"

"I still feel slightly ill," she admitted. "May I stay on the bed; eat my snacks, and drinking my ginger ale?"

"By all means, the only thing you need for this game is a mind and a mouth," he said.

"That leaves you one short," she laughed.

He laughed too, a fake laugh, and said, "Ready for my game, Granger?"

"Bring it on, Malfoy, bring it on, because you don't scare me in the least," she said. She sat up on the bed, and popped another grape in her mouth.

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	18. Chapter 18

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**Chapter 18 –**

She popped another grape in her mouth, after having told Draco she wasn't scared of him or his little game. The truth was somewhat different. She was slightly weary, for it was hard to tell what the man had planned. Just because he said it wasn't a sex game didn't mean it wouldn't turn out that way. The alphabetic game they played at her house was not supposed to be sexual either, and it turned out that way, of course, that one was Hermione's fault.

She threw a grape at his head, because he was smiling like a Cheshire cat. "What is your stupid game, Malfoy?"

"I don't really have a game. I thought you would tell me you were too tired, or still felt ill, and we could just kiss for a bit," he admitted.

She threw one more grape at him, but this time he moved his head just right and caught it in his mouth. That might be a good game. "Hey, move to the end of the bed and let me see how many grapes I can get in your mouth," she said.

Not exactly snogging, but it would pass the time.

He sat at the end of the bed and opened his mouth. She sat up against the carved headboard, and picked up the grapes. She tore one off the stem and threw it. It hit him on the cheek. "Loser, Loser!" he taunted. He threw the grape back at her and it bounced off her head and went behind the bed.

"I'm not getting that," she warned.

"I could not care less if anyone gets it," he said.

"It might make mice come," she said.

"The Manor doesn't have mice," he said with a frown.

"This place is massive, I'm sure it has all sorts of rodents," she said.

"It's not the Burrow, now throw the damn grape," he said. He opened his mouth wide again. She really tried to aim this time. She held her hand back and threw, and the grape left her hand, twirled in the air, and went right in his mouth.

"HEY, I did it!" she said rather proudly. "And you didn't even have to help me this time, by moving your mouth or anything."

"Yes, you are the queen of throwing grapes," he said sarcastically. She picked up an apple and tossed it at his head. Thankfully, he anticipated such a move, and he caught it before it could cause any damage.

"You're lucky I caught that. It might have hit me square in the face and broken my nose or something. I read where that happened to a bloke once. Now, let me think of a game, Granger," he said. He threw the apple in the air and caught it, repeating the action several times. Finally, he took a bite of it and then put it back on her tray. He stood up and said, "I have one, let's play get naked and have sex."

"You are such an idiot," she said. She moved over to the edge of the bed, after moving the tray away. She put her feet on the floor and started to stand. She didn't anticipate that she might be slightly lightheaded. She stood up, only to sit right back down.

"Alright, Granger?" he asked as he rushed to her side.

"Dizzy, that's all," she said.

"Hell, I'm dizzy everyday of my life, and I can walk just fine," he laughed. She tried to stand again, but was forced to reach for his shoulder. She leaned into his body. "Are you still dizzy, or are you looking for an excuse to hold onto me?" he asked. He put his arms around her waist.

"Why am I dizzy?" she asked. She sat back down. He felt her head again. She didn't feel warm this time, but she did feel slightly clammy.

"Shall I get my mother?" he asked.

"What would you do for me if your mother wasn't around?" she asked perturbed.

"Again, I ask, shall I get my mother?" He went to the door.

"No, just come back here. I have to go to the bathroom and you will just have to help." He rushed over to her side. Now, even though they had been married for two weeks, and had made love at least two to three times a day since they had been married, Hermione had never gone to the bathroom in front of him. She just didn't feel it was necessary. Some things were best left private. He had whipped his thing out a few times when she was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth or combing her hair, and seemed to have no trouble going to the toilet in front of her, but that was different. He helped her to the bathroom and she said, "Just stay out there in case I need you." She started to the toilet, but she stumbled. He rushed back to her side.

"I'll take you to the toilet," he said.

"No, that's embarrassing," she said.

"Why?" he asked, truly wondering.

"I don't want you to see me going to the bathroom!" she said as she looked up in his eyes.

"You'll be sitting, and I won't see a thing," he said.

"You'll hear," she argued.

"What will I hear, you stupid girl? I've made love to you each and every way possible, I've shagged you from here to Tuesday, and you're worried I'll hear you tinkle?" He laughed at her and said, "You are such a riot! Sometimes I wish I could tell people how funny you are." He started leading her toward the commode.

"I'm fine now, go out to the bedroom," she said.

"No, you might fall over and crack your head open on the porcelain. I think I should stay. I'll shut my eyes, and cover my ears," he said.

"How will you help me if you cover your ears?" she said.

Damn, she was smart. They figured out a way for her to go to the bathroom, **and** to keep her happy. She sat on the commode, he leaned down to hold her by the upper arms, he shut his eyes, and she covered his ears. Draco thought if anyone saw them, they would have a good laugh. The thing was, he could still hear, but he wouldn't tell her that. Was this something husbands did for their wives? Did they hold them when they urinated? He really wondered. What else was in store for him during his married life? Would he be asked to hold her hair when she vomited? Hold her hand when she pooped? He smiled to himself, and decided that once she was done, he would have a good laugh at her expense.

It seemed to be taking a long time. Maybe she was doing more than urinating. Maybe that was why she was embarrassed. He said, "How much longer?"

She uncovered his ears. He opened his eyes. She said, "I feel really horrible. I cannot even stand back up. Why do I still feel ill?" He helped her to stand and straightened her clothing. She insisted on washing her hands, and then he picked her up, in a good old act of gallantry, and carried her back to the bed.

"Maybe we should call the Healer again," he said.

"I am a Healer, and I don't think this has anything to do with an infected hand," she argued. "Give me some more pain medication, please."

"Are you in pain?" he asked.

"No, I want to put it behind my ears, because I think it smells nice! Of course I'm in pain," she whined. She fell on her side on the bed and he went to get the potion.

After she took a drink, he said, "This isn't some elaborate plan to get out of the party, is it?" She gave him a nasty look. "Sorry, but I had to ask to be sure." He lay beside her, and stroked her arm up and down. He touched her lips with his fingertips and leaned over to kiss her. "Maybe you're pregnant," he said with a chuckle.

"NO!" she said, sitting up.

"It was a joke, Granger," he said. "Lie back down and calm down a bit. It's not good for the baby for you to get all excited." He laughed again.

"I mean it, Draco Malfoy, don't you dare say that again!" she shouted.

He sat beside her and said, "Well, we have been mating like bunnies since we married, and we have yet to do anything to ensure that you won't get pregnant."

She sighed and said, "I'm on Muggle birth control. It's just easier to take it than to have to perform a contraception charm each time we're in the mood."

He frowned. "When were you going to tell me that little tidbit?"

"I don't know. Why, is it important?" she quizzed.

"Hell, yes! You're purposely trying not to get pregnant," he reasoned.

She put the pillow over her head and screamed. She removed the pillow and then she said, "We are not really having this conversation, are we? I mean, do you want a child right now?"

He thought about it for a moment. He didn't, not really. He didn't want to share Hermione, not yet. He wanted to get to know her better, and spend time with her, and be free to come and go as they pleased, yet he felt like he was being hoodwinked. "No, not really, but I still think it's very conniving of you not to tell me these things. What other ways are you deceiving me?"

She was going to yell at him, but instead, she said, "I dye my hair. I mean, nothing drastic, but I use a colour called 'winter wheat' on it, and it lightens it just a bit, and puts some gold highlights in it."

He leaned forward and picked up a strand of her hair. He examined it. "Ah, I see. You are a tricky one."

"You tell me something about you now," she smiled. "Do you dye your hair?"

He pushed her shoulder and said, "Why does everyone assume that? Look at my parents! They have the same exact colour of hair!"

"Maybe you all colour your hair. Maybe you get a special family discount or something," she said. "Come on, share a secret with me."

"I once had a threesome," he said.

"Eww, with whom?" she said, her face showing her disgust. Before he could answer, she said, "Wait, was it two girls and you or a girl and a boy?" She sucked in a breath and added, "It wasn't two boys, was it?"

"Wait a minute, Granger," he said, coming up on his knees on the bed. "Don't you even go there! It was two girls!"

"When was this ménage a trois?" she asked.

"Several years ago, and don't even ask me their names, because you know one of them and they will probably be at the party tonight," he said with a wicked grin.

She thought for a moment and said, "Great, now I'll spend the whole night wondering who it was."

"Your turn, you colour your hair, and now what else? Deep dark secret," he coaxed.

She sighed and turned to her side, her head propped up on her elbow. She said, "I once had a sex dream starring Bill Weasley."

"YUCK!" he said. He had a look of total distaste on his face. "Why do you think I wanted to know that? How does that even concern me? How is that a secret revealed?"

"Because I lied, I didn't really have a sex dream starring Bill Weasley, but I did have one starring your father once," she said. She hid her face in the pillow. He jumped on the bed and pulled her around, so she was on her back.

"This better not have been recently!" he said.

"No, it was years ago, and believe me, it grosses me out as much as it does you and you really better not tell anyone," she said. He leaned over her and bit her neck, hard.

"OUCH!" she said. She brought her hand up to her neck.

"I'm marking my territory, in case my father gets a whiff of you," he said.

"What? Are you both, dogs?" she said.

"If I was a dog, I would mark you in a different way," he said, grinning. Hermione remained on her back, and Draco leaned over her stomach. He played with her hair as his eyes shut. He was concentrating. "I have to think of a good one to tell you."

"Did you ever have a sex dream about someone embarrassing? Tell me that one, if you have, since I told you mine," she said. She brought her good hand up to his face.

"Okay, I once had sex dream about Bill Weasley." He laughed at his own joke.

"I can see you two together," she said seriously. "Now, tell me a real secret."

He lay down, with his head on her stomach, so he would not have to look in her eyes. He said, "I had nightmares for years after the whole Dark Lord thing. At first, I had nightmares about what happened on the tower the night the Headmaster was killed. I blamed myself for so many things. For being weak, and not being able to carry out his order, and for wanting to carry out his order. Later, that last year of his reign, I had nightmares every night. I saw people killed in our home, Hermione. This home. I saw you tortured, by my own aunt. I heard your screams. I almost cried for you that day, and I did cry later, in the privacy of my own room. You see, I have bad memories tied to this house, too, but I have more good memories. I want to give you good memories." She stroked his hair, but when he stopped talking, and looked up at her, she stopped. She was crying.

He said, "It's just a house, Hermione. It didn't inflict evil on any of us. We would remember the bad things that happened whether we lived here or not. That's what give us our humanity, the fact that we are human, and we feel, and we falter, and we are fallible." He crawled up her body, and pulled her to him, so that he was on his back and she was cradled in his arms. "I love you, Hermione. Don't you see all the bad things I went through, made me capable of loving you? All the bad things we both went through brought us to this point. My deepest, darkest secret is that I am scared sometimes. Scared beyond belief, but that's okay. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be the man who loves you, and the man you love."

He felt her hot tears flow on his shirtfront. He cupped her cheek and brought her gaze to his. "Now, you tell me one more secret, and then we should get ready for tonight."

"I'm not on Muggle birth control."

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	19. Chapter 19

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**Chapter 19 –**

"I'm not on Muggle birth control," she said.

"You're so funny, Granger," he said with a laugh.

She pushed him with her hand, and said, "Malfoy, I might be pregnant!"

He stood up, indignant, and shouted, "And may I ask who the father is?!"

She stood up beside him, no longer lightheaded, and pushed him again and said, "You, stupid!"

"How could that happen?" he asked.

"The normal way, boy meets girl, gets married in one day, two weeks later, gets pregnant," she said. She had a look of total revulsion on her face.

"It can't happen that fast!" he said, "Like you said, we've only been married two weeks! No one is two weeks pregnant!"

She looked at him as if he grew two heads and said, "Every single person who gave birth at one time was only two weeks pregnant!"

"NO!" he shouted. He couldn't contain himself, so he pushed her. Luckily, she landed on the bed. He pulled her up by her arms, put his hand on her stomach, and said, "Sorry," and then he couldn't contain himself again, so he pushed her again. This time when he tried to help her up, she hit his hands away.

Draco stood in front of her and said, "No one gets pregnant after two weeks of marriage! It just isn't right! It isn't done!"

"I hate to break it to you Mr. Morals, but sometimes people get pregnant before marriage. Sometime people get pregnant instead of marrying. It happens everyday," she said. She fell back on the bed, her legs dangling off the side and she said, "I'm going to be sick."

He clenched his hands, jumped up and down, and said, "Morning sickness! You are pregnant!"

She sat back up and said, "It's a figure of speech, I'm not really sick."

"I am," he said. "Why didn't you take Muggle birth control? It's your job as the woman to take care of these things!"

"WHAT?"

"You heard me, Granger!" he said. He pointed at her. "I think you got pregnant on purpose, to trap me into marrying you!"

"YOU ARE AN IDIOT!" she shouted. She stood beside him and said, "We were married first! And for your information, I was on Muggle birth control, but after Ron left me, I didn't see the need anymore, so I stopped."

"But why didn't you start back?" he accused.

"I've had other things on my mind!" she said. "Like being married, you moving in, this upcoming weekend! I'm sorry I messed up!"

"You should be!" he said. Hermione sat down on the bed. The truth was each and every time they had sex, she thought about it. She couldn't really tell him why she hadn't started back on birth control. Maybe, secretly, in the deep recesses of her soul, she did want to have a baby. He sat beside her.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. It's only partly your fault. The biggest part, but a small part is my fault. I should have made you take birth control."

She glared at him. It would be redundant to call him an idiot again.

She felt like crying. As if their world wasn't complicated enough, a baby would turn it completely upside down. She had not even had time to consider a baby. The Malfoys would probably never let her leave here if they thought she was carrying their heir apparent. Hermione sunk to her knees, clasped her hands, and said, "Please, if there is a higher being, anyone up there at all, any sort of deity, have mercy on me and spare me from this burden!"

Draco said, "I think you've gone soft in the head." He flicked her head with his fingers. "A higher being doesn't give two shakes about you and your baby. No one up there gives one iota about your little piddly problems."

Hermione kept her eyes shut and ignored him and continued to pray, "Please, let my dizziness just be from an infection of my hand. I will even let you take my hand in exchange for this one simple request."

"GRANGER!" he said, aghast. He really did think she was going mad. He stood her up and pushed her to sit on the bed. She just sat there. He stared at her for a long time. Finally, finding her silence disconcerting, and he said, "Aren't there test to determine these things?"

"Draco! You're a genius!" she said. She threw herself in his arms, and hugged him tight. "Yes, there's test! Muggle and magical. I'm a Healer, and I know all about them, so why didn't I think of that?"

"You were too busy praying for your hand to rot off," he said. He took a deep breath and said, "Is it terrible of me not to want a baby yet?"

"No," she said softly. She looked down at the floor. "I don't really want one yet, either," she added.

"But, I don't want one for a really long time, and for completely selfish reasons, so does that make me a horrible husband?" he asked. She looked over at him and saw that he genuinely seemed concerned.

"No, not at all. What are your selfish reasons?" she asked.

"I don't want to share you yet. I just found you, and I'm having such a good time getting to know you, and I want you all to myself, and when I say it like that, even I think I sound selfish," he admitted.

"Draco, its okay, and we all know you're selfish," she said to reassure him. "And you are brilliant to think of the test. I can do it right now. I just need some urine and my wand."

"You just went to the bathroom, so if you'd like, you can use my urine," he said.

She started to laugh, thinking he was joking, but he was serious. Okay, maybe she was a bit hasty earlier when she said he was brilliant. "Thanks, Malfoy, but we kind of have to use my urine. I think I can go again. All this pregnancy talked scared me so badly, I almost wet myself anyway. Let me get my wand for the spell. Excuse me while I go to the toilet." She walked over to the bathroom and he waited outside the door.

He paced outside the door, back and forth, back and forth. He leaned against the door and said, "Have you found out yet if I'm going to be a father, or am I to remain happily childless for a few more years?"

She walked out of the bathroom and said, "It will take an hour. I'm sorry, but we just have to wait."

"An hour, really?" he said, disappointed.

"Yes, so I suggest we get ready for the blasted party, and by the time we are ready, the results should be ready as well," she said. She walked over to the closet and pulled out the dress bag that had her new gown. He walked over to his closet and took out his dress robes. There was nothing left to do, but to get dressed.

XOXOXOXOX

They both got ready for the party in an almost orchestrated silence. She passed him on her way to the bathroom. He passed her on his way to the dresser. She needed zipped, and before she could ask, he stood behind her and zipped her up. He needed his tie tied, and right on cue, she was there to tie it, even with her bad hand. After fifty minutes, her hair and makeup was done, they both were dressed, and they were sitting side by side on the bed, just waiting. They had ten more minutes.

Without looking at her, Draco said, "You look very beautiful tonight."

She turned to look at him, and said, "Thank you." She turned her head back toward the room.

He turned toward her and said, "You're welcome." He looked back toward the room.

She turned back toward him and said, "You're beautiful, too." She looked back toward the room, as he turned to look at her.

"Don't you mean handsome?" he asked. He continued to look at her. She turned and caught his gaze.

"Oh, yeah, handsome," she laughed. She hadn't realized what she had said in her distracted state of mind. She said, "No, I rescind that comment. You are quite beautiful."

"So are you," he said. He cupped her cheek. He bounced a curl that hung down from her perfect hairstyle. He said, "Every man will envy me tonight, more than usual, that is." He leaned over and kissed her lips. He sighed and said, "I am the luckiest man on this earth."

"Has ten minutes gone by yet?" she asked.

He looked at his watch. "Three more to go," he said. His mother knocked on their door. Draco said, "Come in." Narcissa entered, dressed in a dark forest green gown, which next to her pale hair and complexion, made her look more beautiful than she already looked. "You look breathtaking, Mother." Draco stood up and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Hermione stood and Draco said, "Isn't my wife beautiful?"

"She is," Narcissa said with a true smile.

"Isn't my husband dashing?" Hermione asked.

"I've always thought so," Mrs. Malfoy answered. "Now, the guests should be arriving shortly, and it would be uncouth for you two not to meet them at the door, so come downstairs now."

Hermione said, "Draco, you go on, I just have to stop in bathroom. I will be down in a dash."

One look at his watch, and he understood. He leaned toward her and kissed her again and said, "No matter what, I love you." He left the room with his mother, and Hermione went to check the test results.

XOXOXOXOX

Hermione walked down the grand stairs case, holding onto the banister for support. She looked down and saw Draco standing at the bottom of the stairs. He couldn't interpret from her expression if she had good news or…well, good news. He couldn't say that having a baby would be bad news, because it wouldn't. It would be unexpected, but not a bad thing, not by a long shot. Frankly, just because a child wasn't anticipated, didn't mean it wasn't wanted. He waited for her to walk down to the last step, when he took her hand.

She shook her head no.

He nodded in understanding.

She fell into his embrace. He hugged her tight. Lucius eyed them suspiciously, as did Narcissa. They exchanged looks with each other, and then they both looked at the younger couple again.

Draco said, "It's for the best right now."

"I know," she said. "I still feel sad for some reason."

They walked toward his parents and Lucius said, "You look lovely, daughter-in-law. Draco, perhaps you made a good match after all. Perhaps you two aren't such an unlikely pair. Sometimes polar opposites make the best counterparts. Moreover, no one can deny that you look good together. You will give us beautiful grandchildren someday."

Draco smiled and said, "Yes, someday, but not today, and not too soon, father. We don't want to rush things, do we Granger?"

"I guess not," she said with a sad smile.

There was a knock at the door. Their first guest had arrived. Draco pulled her over to the side and said, "Are you still nervous?"

"No, not with you by my side," she said.

"Well, then, prepare to never be nervous again," he said. He wasn't planning on leaving her side any time soon.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX


	20. Chapter 20

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Chapter 20 –**

Hermione stood with her back toward the wall, near the doors leading toward the patio. After tirelessly greeting at least one hundred guests, only a handful of whom she was previously acquainted, Hermione now found she was alone once again. Her husband went to find some champagne.

She felt someone by her side and she turned to see a dark haired man standing beside her, smiling. "Hello," Hermione said with a smile.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked.

"I have to admit, you look familiar, which is more than I can say to most of the people in this room," she confessed. "Why don't you put me out of my suspense and just tell me who you are."

"I went to Hogwarts," he said.

"I hate to tell you, but that doesn't really narrow things down," she answered. He laughed.

"I was in Slytherin," he said.

"As did probably everyone in this room, yours truly the exception," she said. She took a good look at him and said, "Really, you do look familiar."

"I was older than you," he said. "Two years ahead."

"Sorry," she shook her head.

"You and your crew were too busy saving the world to notice much around you," the man said. Hermione would have been offended, but he had a playful smile, which denoted that he was joking.

"Pucey, are you bothering my wife?" Draco asked as he approached. He held out champagne to Hermione, and the other flute he started to drink from, but the man beside him took it from him.

"Thank you, Draco old man," he said, "and I was merely trying to introduce myself to your wife, seeing that she doesn't remember me."

"Sorry," she said again.

Draco said, "Hermione, this is Adrian Pucey. He was two years ahead of us, so he's a right old man now," Draco laughed. Adrian took Hermione's hand and kissed her knuckles. Draco leaned over and said, "You might want to go wash that off, Hermione."

Adrian reached over to Hermione's other hand and said, "What happened there?"

Hermione looked at Draco and then said, "Cooking accident."

"Oh, you're one of those cooks, huh? I thought being Muggle-born, you would have learned how to wield a knife and spatula," Adrian said with a slight laugh. Hermione laughed, too. She liked this man, even if she didn't remember him.

He excused himself and walked over to another couple and Draco said, "I never liked that man."

"Really, he seemed nice for a former Slytherin," she said.

"Well, he's not, so don't go talk to him by yourself again, please. I know things about him that would shock your prim little morals." Draco took her flute from her and took a drink. She held out her hand, for the champagne, but he said, "Just because you aren't pregnant doesn't mean you should mix alcohol with all that medication you're taking."

"But you're the one who gave it to me," she pouted.

"Henceforth, the reason I am within my rights to take it away."

Narcissa walked up and said, "Your father is planning on toasting you now, and then you two have to go dance the first dance. Draco, where is Hermione's champagne. I told you to get one for you both."

"She already drank it, she is really a bit of a lush," he lied while he laughed.

Hermione and Narcissa both gave him the exact same exasperated look, to which he said, "Fine, I'll go get another." He held up his hand for a waiter, who brought along some more champagne.

Hermione said, "I really don't even drink."

"I'm sure being married to this one will drive you to drink," Narcissa said with a smile. Hermione laughed and nodded.

Draco handed a flute of champagne to Hermione and said, "You aren't supposed to talk about me in front of my face."

"Then turn around," Hermione joked.

Just then, Lucius walked up to them. "Come, it's time," was all he said. He led his family toward the front of the massive ballroom. He introduced them, rather nicely Hermione thought, and then raised his glass. The only thing he said that she took offense with was when he said he hoped some of her lesser qualities, like her cooking ability, didn't rubbed off on his son. He held up Hermione's hand, the one in the bandage, and everyone laughed. Fine, make a joke at her expense and let everyone laugh. Hermione could take it.

Draco pulled Hermione to his chest and they started dancing. Soon, other couples joined them. "This is only the second time we've danced, once during the weekend at the Burrow, and now," Hermione reminisced. She liked the feel of being in his arms. She felt as ease, at home, but even more than that, she felt right. It felt right and comfortable. He pulled her even closer, and his right hand went to the bare skin of her back, as her left hand, in its bandage, rested between their bodies. His left hand held her right one, and brought it up to his mouth, to place a gentle kiss on the top.

"I don't know many people here," Draco finally said. "Most of the ones I know are from school. My parents didn't even think to invite any of my current friends."

"Or any of my friends," she added. Hermione said, "That blond woman over there looks familiar. What's her name?"

"Daphne Greengrass. She graduated with Percy and Oliver Wood." He said the last name with disdain.

"She wasn't one of the three from your threesome was she?" Hermione asked.

He laughed, but when he looked at her face, he saw concern so he said, "I lied about that."

"But we were supposed to be revealing deep dark secrets! If you lied about something like that, how bad could the real truth be?" she asked.

"Well, you lied about being on Muggle birth control, I'd like to point out," he said.

"Enough said, although for the record, I was on it at one time, just not presently, so ergo, I didn't really lie," she said.

He kissed her forehead and said, "Yes, you tell yourself that you little liar."

"How about you? Lying comes so easy to you. Draco Malfoy lied, shocking," she said sardonically.

"Lying doesn't come easy," he said, without explaining further. "What else did you lie about, I wonder? Were those your real parents I met this weekend?"

She laughed and said, "I lied when I said I had a sex dream about your father."

"Wait," he stopped dancing and looked down at her. "You said it was about Bill Weasley first, and then you said you lied about that and that it was really about my father, and now you say that was a lie. What's the truth, that it was my father and Bill Weasley?" He laughed.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle and said, "When I started to tell you, I changed my mind at the last moment, so I said Bill Weasley, because I've always thought he was handsome. I thought it was plausible that I would have a sex dream about him, but you looked so upset when I said his name, so I changed it to your father, because I thought you would think the whole thing a joke. When you sort of laughed it off, I didn't see the need to tell you who I was going to say."

"Was it someone bad?" he asked. He put his cheek in her hair.

"Bad, in what way?"

"Come on, Hermione, just tell me," he pleaded, looking at her.

"It was a dream and it was a long time ago, and you probably have sex dreams starring half the women in this room, and I could care less," she said.

"But yours must be someone incredibly hard to believe, hence your need to hide it from me," he reasoned.

"It was you," she said. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Granger, we're married, it is not only okay for you to have sex dreams starring me, it is quite possibly mandatory, and who knows, maybe you weren't dreaming. Maybe you were just sleeping, and I was taking liberties," he joked.

She looked at him with a look of shock, and was about to chastise him, but figured there was no use, so she said, "It wasn't since we were married. It was before."

"Oh," he said slowly, adding another, "oh." He put his hand on her face as another song started. He stopped dancing for a minute and said, "I am actually rather honoured. When was this?"

She looked down at the ground. "When I was with Ron," she said softly.

"Are you going to tell me the particulars?" he asked.

"Certainly not," she said. They began to dance to the next song and she said, "Besides, like you said, no big deal."

"Did Weasel know about this?" he asked.

"Heavens, no, Ron and I never talked as much as you and I do. I think I have talked more and revealed more about myself to you in the last two weeks than I ever did with him."

Now that was the nicest compliment he was ever paid.

"You aren't lying again, and saying the dream was about me because it was really about Potter, are you?" he asked. She put her face down and he lifted her chin. "Granger!" he warned.

"Oh, Draco, I've never had a sex dream about Harry," she said.

"Well, keep it that way."

"I can't determine what I dream and what I don't," she said. As he held her in his arm, swaying to the music, he knew how true that statement was. She actually had nightmares a lot. He didn't even know if she was aware of it. One night, the first night he moved into her house, he woke her up, because she was crying in her sleep. When he asked her what she was dreaming of, she revealed she dreamt she was back with Harry, at the house in Godric's Hollow, when Voldemort's snake attacked them, the year they searched for Horcruxes. She had already revealed that story once to him, but it pained him to think that she still had nightmares about it, years later.

He also knew that just last night, with the knowledge that they were coming here, she dreamt of the day she was tortured by Bellatrix here at the Manor. He knew it because she screamed out and actually said, "Draco, help me, don't let her hurt me."

He wondered if she thought that same thought all those years ago. He wondered if she prayed for him to help her, if she pleaded in her mind for him to come rescue her, and he didn't.

He would never let anyone hurt her again.

"You've grown quiet," she said.

"I had the image of Harry and you together, and it left me speechless for a while," he lied. He smiled and she put her good hand on his cheek.

"I only have dreams of you," she said. He bent his head and kissed her lips.

"Let's go hide away and make that dream a reality. A quickie in the closet, or something," he said with a smile.

That plan was spoiled when his father walk up to them and said, "May I have this dance."

Hermione looked up at Draco's face with an expression he would never forget. It was fear mixed with 'if you let me go I will kill you', so Draco said, "Sorry father, but she's promised all her dances, for the rest of her life, to me." Lucius looked from his son's face, to Hermione's, who smiled up at Draco with love and gratitude, and he smiled as well.

He turned to Narcissa and said, "You are stuck with me, my dear."

Draco whispered to Hermione, "And you are stuck with me." She sighed and hugged him closer. He said, "Now, to ruin a perfectly good moment, tell me about my sex dream with you, and don't leave out any details."

Hermione said, "Find us a secluded corner, two more glasses of champagne, and I will weave you the tale of my sordid sex dream, starring Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, from when I was still dating Ron, agreed?"

He said, "Stay right there, and I'll get the champagne." He ran off and she watched him with a smile.

She heard a voice behind her say, "I wouldn't mind hearing this dream either, Hermione."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO


	21. Chapter 21

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

**Chapter 21 – **

"I wouldn't mind hearing this dream either, Hermione," said a man behind her. She knew immediately who it was, and she cringed.

She turned around and said, "I didn't know you were back from your honeymoon, Ron."

"We got back just today. Pansy wanted to go visit her parents and they told her about this party. Even though we weren't invited, she insisted that we come. How are you, Hermione? Still happy?" he asked.

"Considering I've been married two weeks today, yes, I'm still finding marriage agreeable," she said.

"I can't believe you didn't annul this marriage by now. I can't believe you're here at Malfoy Manor. You know what happened here during the war! You can't have forgotten what happened to you here. What happened to us all here! How could you come here, Hermione? Are you blinded by Malfoy's money, or what?"

"Listen, Ron, I know you've never liked Draco, and there's always been bad blood between your families, but I won't have you dictating to me how you think I should feel and act," she said, pointing her finger toward him. Adrian was across the room, and he knew someone needed to come to her rescue, and it might as well be him.

"So, tell me this dream you had about Malfoy while you were still with me," he said with a sarcastic smile.

"I don't think so Ron," she spat.

Over at the bar, Draco was ordering two glasses of wine. He heard a voice beside him say, "Your wife looks uncomfortable with her present company." Draco turned and looked at Adrian Pucey, and then looked across the room and saw Ron Weasley talking with Hermione.

"What in the hell is Weasel doing at my party?" Draco asked.

"The bigger question, Draco, is what are you going to do about the fact that Pansy is heading toward them as we speak?" Adrian inquired.

Draco saw Pansy crossing the large ballroom, heading right toward Ron and Hermione. "Shite!" he exclaimed. "Listen, Adrian, you go rescue my wife, ask her to dance or something, I have to head off Pansy. I don't want a scene, and I can tell by her expression that is exactly what she has planned."

"You will owe me one, old man," Adrian said.

"Don't I always," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Just be a mate and go over there now."

Adrian headed toward Ron and Hermione as Draco headed toward Pansy. Adrian caught Lucius by the arm, and said, "I think we might have trouble brewing, Malfoy. Hermione's ex and Draco's ex, also known as the current Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley are here."

Lucius looked toward his son's blond head, and saw him heading toward Pansy. He nodded his thanks to Adrian and went toward the other pair.

"Mr. Weasley, I wasn't aware of inviting you to our little soiree tonight," Lucius said without pretense. "I invited your in-laws, but not you and your wife, for obvious reasons." He looked down at Hermione and said, "You still owe me a dance, my dear."

"Thank you, Lucius," she said, taking his hand. She looked toward Ron and said, "It would be best if you leave. I will see you soon." She started to dance with Lucius and she said, "Have you seen Draco?"

"He's taking out the trash, I think," Lucius said. "By the way, I love how you consent to dance with me only when it's advantageous to you. I would expect nothing else of a Malfoy. We are basically self-serving creatures, and self-centered by habit."

"Ah, well, I'm glad my self-serving, self-centerness, meets with your approval," she said acerbically. He looked down at her and she had a smirk on her face. A smirk! Yes, she might fit in well after all.

"What was with the little exchange between you and Draco earlier, before the guests arrived, at the bottom of the stairs?" he asked.

"Does nothing escape your notice?" she asked.

"Very little," he admitted.

She felt it would serve no purpose to lie to him, because Draco would tell him if asked, so she said, "Draco and I wondered if my dizziness was only due to my infected hand, or if there could be an underlying cause."

"Such as?"

"Well, we wondered, even though we had only been married two weeks, we wondered if I might be pregnant," she admitted.

Hermione looked up at him and could not read his features, since he had not changed expression in the least. He finally said, "And the outcome was as you wished it to be?"

"Hardly, I mean, they were unfounded, since I'm not, but I'm not sure the alternative would have been totally unwelcome. What do you think?" she asked.

He finally smiled. "I helped my wife pick out the furniture in the nursery next to your bedroom, what do you think I think?"

She didn't know what to say. She turned to look for Draco. Her father-in-law turned her so she could not see. "Don't worry about Draco. He will be fine. He will be more than fine." Lucius wasn't only talking about his son taking care of Pansy. He was talking about his new wife. Draco did a good job finding an acceptable wife. Hermione Granger would do just fine. Actually, the more he thought about things, the better this was. He had lost some respectability with the whole 'Death Eater' debacle, and having a war hero as a daughter-in-law could only help his social standing. Most of their guests tonight seemed almost envious of the match. The young woman impressed most of them. Not to mention, his son seemed happy and in love. That was a plus as well.

The song ended, and Hermione tried to walk away to find Draco. Lucius motioned for Adrian. Adrian came up, took Hermione's hand, and said, "May I have the next dance?"

"My hand is hurting again, and I'm worried for Draco. I don't see him, Ron or Pansy," she said. She turned back toward Lucius, to ask him to help her find them, but he was already gone. She looked up at Adrian and said, "I really don't feel like dancing again. Please, don't think I'm rude, but could you help me find Draco?"

"Draco is outside, in the back garden, and he's trying, to no avail, to get Pansy and Weasley the hell out of here," Adrian explained.

"Let's go," she said. She took his hand and weaved through the crowd. He smiled. It might be fun to watch a showdown occur. His money was on Granger, or Mrs. Malfoy, as she was now called.

Draco had rushed up to Pansy earlier, right after Adrian pointed her out to him and without a word to her, he grabbed her hand and pulled her outside. "What are you doing here, Pans? You weren't invited. Your vermin husband certainly wasn't invited. Go home before you make a scene, and we all do or say something we regret."

"No, I don't think I will go just yet," she said. "I wanted to come here and see if this farce of a marriage was still going on, and I see it is! I can't believe Lucius and Narcissa are accepting of this. Do you have them under the Imperius or something?"

"No Pansy, my parents love me and want me happy, as hard as that is for you to understand. Seriously, you need to leave now, or I will have you and Weasel thrown out!" He took her arm but she pulled it away. "Pansy, what is your problem?" he asked. "If I'm right, you were the other woman, the mistress. If anyone should play the part of a wounded party, it should be my wife! Furthermore, it's not as if you and I were still dating, and she stole me from you. We haven't dated for a very long time!"

"Maybe we haven't dated for a very long time, but we certainly had sex just five days before my wedding! I thought we would keep up that part of our relationship! Don't I mean anything to you?" Pansy screamed.

Ron and Hermione stood stock still, in shock, when they heard her statement, and heard they did, as they had both just exited the house for the patio. Adrian heard as well, but instead of rejoicing in Draco's predicament, he felt bad for the man, for Hermione, and even for Weasley.

"Pansy, what did you say?" Ron asked. Hermione rushed up to Draco's side. He turned to her, thinking she would be hurt, but she put her hand in his.

"Ron, I just, well, I didn't want you to hear that," she said.

"Then its true?" he asked.

"Yes, it is, but it was before we married!" she said.

Adrian leaned forward and said, "May I point out that you said it was just five days before you married."

"SHUT UP!" Draco and Hermione yelled at the man in unison.

Ron's face was red with embarrassment, and he said, "You said you had expected to keep having a sexual relationship with Malfoy after we married! Did you mean that?"

"Seriously, Ron, everyone has affairs. You aren't so above cheating. You cheated with me while with Granger!" Pansy said, pointing toward Hermione.

"Again," Adrian said, leaning forward, "I hate to point out the obvious, but Ron and Hermione weren't married."

"SHUT UP!" Draco and Hermione yelled again.

"Pansy, what does this all mean? Do you even love me at all?" Ron asked.

Pansy had a pained expression and she said, "Ron, I care for you, and I don't want to hurt you, I really don't. I started seeing you in the beginning to make Draco jealous. He made it clear that he didn't want a relationship with me that went beyond sex. And, he already had feelings for Granger. Sometimes he would say her name at night in his sleep. Once he said it while we made love. I wanted to hurt her, so I went about to steal you from her, hoping to break her like I was broken, and it would be a bonus if it made Draco sit up and notice me."

"But it didn't work, obviously," Adrian said. Draco and Hermione glared at him and he said, "WELL IT DIDN'T!"

"Why did you marry me? I love you, Pansy. I really do. When you saw it didn't make a difference to Malfoy, and after you got your revenge on Hermione, for something she didn't even do I might add, why go that extra step? Why marry me?" Ron looked so hurt that Hermione's heart was breaking for him. Even though he had hurt her so much, she still cared for him, and she didn't think he deserved what he was getting, even though it was pretty much the same pain he had inflicted on her.

Hermione walked over to Ron and put her hand on his arm. "Ron, come with me. Let's get out of here."

Ron started to walk away, Hermione holding his hand, when Pansy drew her wand. Before she could curse either one, Lucius Malfoy appeared out of nowhere and petrified the horrible woman. Hermione and Ron turned around quickly and Ron ran to Pansy' side.

Lucius looked down at the frozen pug face of Pansy, and said, "Bad form, woman, to try to curse another woman when her back is turned, and in her own house. Even I wouldn't do that."

"How long will she stay like this?" Ron asked Hermione.

She bent down to examine the woman, her wand arm still up in the air, and said, "It might be several hours. You should get her home."

"Let her parents take her home. I'm going to the Burrow, and on Monday morning, I'm going to see Percy about helping me get an annulment. If I need you to be my witness at her deceit, will you?" He looked at Hermione and grasped her shoulder.

Draco walked up to Ron and said, "We all will."

Ron said, "I am so sorry about this, everyone. Hermione, will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"Ron, I forgave you the moment I fell in love with Draco," she said. He smiled at her weakly and then he disapparated away.

Adrian had gone inside to get Pansy's mother and father. Pansy's mother screwed up her pug face and started to cry. Pansy's father took his daughter's frozen arm, and disapparated away, his wife following shortly after.

"Well, that was fun kids," Adrian said. He patted Draco on the back and said, "Your parties never fail to entertain." He walked back inside, followed by Lucius.

Draco took Hermione's hand and led her to a cement wall that went around a large topiary. He sat down and pulled her down beside him.

"I agree with Adrian, that was mildly entertaining," he said.

"And enlightening," she added. "You liked me for a while, I guess."

"I guess, but I think I told you that already," he said.

"When did you first like me?" she asked.

"I don't know, a long time ago, but seriously, I began to think about a 'you and me' about eight months ago." He took her good hand and traced the lines of her palm with his index finger as he spoke. "Ron was already cheating on you, but you didn't know it. You were still besotted with the big oaf, you came to the office one afternoon, and you sat at Harry's desk, and said that you didn't think Ron was ever going to marry you, and every time you brought up the subject, he changed the subject. You said that you didn't even know if you still loved him, but you felt you had so much vested into the relationship, you felt it would be the easy way out to just give up." He stopped talking for a moment, and looked in her eyes. He kept her right hand in his left hand, and put his right hand up to smooth down her hair.

"Potter told you that if you didn't love him anymore, not to waste your time. How I wish you had listened to him. Of course, he knew Ron was cheating. Everyone in the office knew about it."

"I don't remember seeing you that day. The last time I remember seeing you before Ron and Pansy's wedding was at Harry and Ginny's wedding, and that was almost three years ago," she admitted. "You heard mine and Harry's conversation almost verbatim, and yet, I don't recall you being there that day."

"Well, you wouldn't would you? You were too upset. You were behind Harry's stupid partition that he had put up, so his desk could be separated from the rest of ours, and I was eavesdropping, as I am apt to do," he said with a smile. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I used to stop by Harry's desk sometimes just to look at your picture. That doesn't make me a stalker by the way. I didn't act on anything," he explained.

"I almost wish you had," she said sadly. "Might have saved me some heartache, and we could have started our life together sooner."

"Nah," he said slyly, "everything happens for a reason, and everything happens when it's supposed to happen. There should be no second guessing things. Now you know my big dark secret, I had a crush on you for a while, and I used to dream about you apparently, which by the way, I don't remember and I really don't recall saying your name while having sex with the pug. I know that's insulting to you." He laughed and so did she.

She said, "I feel it is only fair since you told me another deep dark secret, which I hope turns out to be the truth, unlike your threesome story, that I now reveal another secret to you."

"Sex dream please. I want to know about my sex dream, and don't leave out one pornographic detail," he said.

They heard Narcissa call their names and Hermione said, "Oh, Draco, so sorry, your mother is calling for us. Over here, Narcissa!" Draco put his hand on Hermione's mouth. She struggled to stand up, and he fell backwards over the small cement wall, into the dirt area around the large topiary, pulling her down on top of him. He removed his hand for a second, and she tried to sit up and she managed to yell out, "Over here, Narcissa!"

Draco put his hand over her mouth again, and rolled over on top of her, to hide her from view. "Keep quiet, and no one gets hurt!" Draco whispered.

"Draco Malfoy, get off her this instant!" Narcissa said, standing over them. Draco rolled off his wife and removed his hand from her mouth.

Hermione said, "Oh, you are in trouble now, Mister."

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	22. Chapter 22

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**Chapter 22 – **

Draco stood up and offered his hand to Hermione to help her to stand. His mother said, "What if someone had seen you rollicking around in the planter! I am appalled. Whatever made you think that was an appropriate way to act?"

Draco said, "I am sorry, Mother."

He began to brush off his pants, as Hermione took her wand and cleaned some dirt from her dress. "Draco!" his mother continued to scold, "Look at her dress! You are an adult, yet you act like a child."

"Well, you're speaking to me like I'm a child," Draco said.

"You have never spoken to me like that before, Draco Malfoy, and I won't hear of it again," she said. Hermione hid behind Draco. She thought her mother could be scary, but she had nothing on this woman.

"It's all Hermione's fault," Draco said. Hermione looked around his arm at him and frowned.

"I took the blame for you when you broke my mother's antique crystal bowl, yet you blame me for something you did? Where is the logic in that?" she asked.

"Draco, you broke an antique crystal bowl at the Granger's?" Narcissa asked.

Draco turned to look at Hermione and mouthed the words, "Thanks a lot!" and then turned back to his mother and said, "It's fine. Hermione fixed it."

"How did you break it in the first place?" she asked.

"I don't recall," he said, feeling every bit the five-year-old child.

Narcissa said, "Hermione, how did he break it?"

She suddenly felt bad for 'ratting' out her own husband, so she said nothing, until Narcissa said, "I'm waiting."

"He slid across the dining room table," she said quickly.

Draco pinched her arm so hard that she screamed and hit him. Narcissa said, "The Grangers will think that you were raised in a barn! I am so ashamed. I must buy them a new crystal bowl. Hermione, you will have to let me know what it looked like, so I can have it reproduced."

"Its fine mother, I bought both the Grangers cars, so they're fine about the damn bowl!" He took Hermione's hand and stormed into the ballroom. When he was out of range of his mother's hearing he said, "Way to go, Granger! Get me in trouble with my mother."

"I didn't do anything!" she protested. "You're so immature." She laughed.

Narcissa walked up to them and said, "You made me forget the reason I came to look for you. Your father is ready to reveal all your presents."

"We got presents? I didn't see anyone arrive with presents," Hermione said confused.

"Well, they wouldn't, it's not a bloody birthday party, they had their elves or servants bring them over earlier today, my dear," Lucius said as he walked up behind them. "Now, will you two please join me at the front of the ballroom? We are keeping your guests waiting. They all want to see what everyone else brought you. It is all about who brought the best present, you know. What kept you, by the way?"

Narcissa shook her head and said, "Your son threw his wife down on the ground and proceeded to accost her."

Lucius smiled and Narcissa frowned. "Bad form son," Lucius said to appease his wife. He still smiled.

Soon, Hermione and Draco, flanked by Narcissa and Lucius, were standing behind a long glass table, which had presents of all sizes, each one more ornately wrapped than the next. With one wave of Lucius' wand, all the tissue paper, wrappings and bows disappeared, and Hermione saw the most gaudy, useless, pile of presents that she had ever encountered. There were plenty of "Oh's and Ah's" and a few, "Oh my's". It was apparent each person tried to 'one up' the next, but to Hermione, most of the presents made her a bit sick to her stomach. She didn't see one thing she would display in her home. Hermione leaned over to Draco and said, "You're helping me write all the thank you cards."

"That's what magic is for, my little inbred wife," he said.

She glared at him and said, "Do you know what inbred means?"

"Of course I do, and I know it doesn't apply to you, but I felt like saying it anyway," he replied, smiling at her. He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"You are forgiven since you kissed me," she said. He kissed her again.

"That's for later, for I know I will do something else that needs forgiving," he said. He walked over to the other side of the table, to look at some more of the 'presents'.

Draco and Hermione, along with all the other guests, started perusing the table, and finally, Hermione spied one item she thought might be all right. She picked up a large snow globe, which had a miniature replica of Hogwarts inside its dome. There were even miniature people walking around, and some flying around on brooms. Hermione picked it up and shook it. The snow falling made the tiny little people pull their coats closer to their bodies.

"Do you like it?" Adrian asked.

"I love it. The card says it's from you," she said, looking at the card.

"Well, what do you know about that," he said flippantly. "So it does. Must be then." He pointed at one of the little people and said, "That good looking chap is me."

"Where am I?" she asked.

"Probably in the library with your nose in a book," he said.

She smiled and said, "Where is Draco?"

"Down in the dungeons doing something dastardly, and being rewarded for it with a gift from Mummy and Daddy," he said.

She laughed at that and said, "Where's Harry?"

"Who?" he feigned unawareness.

"Harry Potter," she clarified.

"Never heard of him, now, any other questions?" he asked.

Hermione put the snow globe down and said, "No, but thank you. This might be the nicest present here."

"You must not receive presents very often," Adrian said with a smile. "It's true it's not terribly useful, much like all these other trifling things, but at least its original."

"It is, and again, thank you," she said. She put her hand on his arm.

"Pucey, unhand my wife," Draco said, walking up to Hermione and putting his arms around her waist.

"Your wife was handling me," Adrian said in his own defense.

"Well, then, Pucey, stop letting my wife touch you," he said. He looked down at Hermione and said, "There's plenty of ugly bowls here, maybe my mother would be happy if I give one to your mother."

"I doubt it," she said. Hermione suddenly held her hurt hand in her other hand and she said, "My hand hurts again."

"Shall I get your medicine?" he asked.

"Do you mind? I should eat something, too, so I won't get lightheaded again," she said.

"Hermione, you go sit down at that table over there, I'll get the medicine, and Pucey here will play our slave and get us all some food. Go get food, Pucey," Draco demanded.

"Draco, stop being so mean to Adrian," she said.

"Why, do you love him?" he asked. He looked at Adrian and said, "She has a habit of falling in love pretty quickly, and usually at parties." Adrian laughed and went to get them all some food. Draco looked back to Hermione and said, "For your information, my little Muggle muffin, Adrian is one of my oldest and dearest friends."

"I hate to see how you talk to your enemies," Hermione said as Draco led her to a table.

"It's just the way we interact, that's all. We are very good friends," Draco explained, as he pulled out a chair for her.

"That must mean you love Harry, then," Hermione said with a grin.

"Don't make fun of my dislike for Potter. That is one of my few true and genuine emotions, next to my love of Quidditch and candy," he said.

"And me?" she asked.

He bent down and kissed her head and said, "And you. I will go get your medicine."

Hermione sat alone at the table, which afforded her a good look at the crowd. She truly only recognized a few people. Most of the people here were purebloods. Since the war ended, Hermione knew that most purebloods put on the pretense of 'socializing' with Muggle-borns and half bloods, but that didn't mean they liked it, as evident to the fact that not a single one approached her, save for Adrian and Ron, when she wasn't with Draco, Narcissa or Lucius. She thought that was interesting, and somewhat disturbing, however, she was grateful, all the same.

Draco returned with her pain potion before Adrian returned with their food. She took a swig of the potion, and he put it back in his pocket. She leaned her head on his shoulder. He reached up with his hand, stroked her hair, and said, "Are you okay?"

"I'm lonely," she said.

He didn't know what she meant by that. How could she be lonely? She was in a ballroom with almost a hundred people in it. He was there as well. Enough said. He put his arm around her shoulder, and said, "I know what you mean." Frankly, on second thought, he did know what she meant.

He knew that she wasn't comfortable around all these people. Nothing was familiar to her. She wasn't with her family or friends. This little party certainly was different from the wedding reception at the Burrow, two weeks ago. Everyone there was happy. Everyone there cared about each other. There was no pretense. When he thought of it that way, Draco was lonely, too.

Hermione finally said, "That man over there keeps staring at me. Who is he, and should I worry?"

"That's Frank Degrassi, and he has a glass eye, so he's probably not staring at you. His eye is probably stuck." Draco laughed at his own joke, and so did she.

"Okay, tell me about that man over there." Hermione motioned with her head. "The tall, gangly blond."

"That's Blair Conrad. He's a complete poof. A real ponce. He works at the Ministry and he thinks he's better and smarter than everyone else, but really, he's a social pariah. He hates Muggle-borns, even though he would never admit to it. His nose is in the air, so that he won't risk the chance of breathing in any of your Mudblood germs."

Hermione looked at him shocked as Adrian placed a tray of food and wine in front of them and asked, "Are you talking about Conrad?"

"Yes," Draco said with a smirk.

"It's not nice to talk about my Mudblood germs. I'm very sensitive about them," Hermione said as Adrian handed her a plate.

Draco said, "I didn't think it, he did. You asked me to tell you what he was thinking."

Adrian took a large drink of wine and said, "Is Malfoy pretending to be clairvoyant again? Is he reading everyone's thoughts?"

"Yes, let's see how good he is," Hermione said as she ate some food. "That woman over there, what is she thinking?"

Draco looked over his shoulder. "That's Mildred Farnsworth. She's thinking that she shouldn't have had the beet salad, because now she has to have emergency diarrhea, and she doesn't know where the facilities are."

Hermione giggled. Adrian said, "Damn, I got some of the beet salad."

Hermione pointed again and said, "That woman, go."

He looked toward where she pointed and said, "That's Ann Dennison, my mother's second cousin three, no four, times removed. She's trying to figure out how to steal that ugly sculpture that Pansy's parents brought. Unbeknownst to her, I plan to give it to her for Christmas."

"He's good at this," Adrian said.

"He is talented, I agree," Hermione said with a smile. "Last one, Malfoy, that tall, good looking, dark haired man in the corner. The one with a scowl on his face. What is he thinking?"

Draco's expression immediately stormed over. He said, "I didn't know he came."

"Yes, your parents invited him," Adrian said.

"Who is he?" Hermione asked.

"You mean the tall, good looking, dark haired chap?" Draco asked sarcastically, mocking what she had just said earlier.

"I'm sorry," she said. Was he offended that she said he was good looking? She said, "He's not that good looking."

Draco downed his whole glass of wine and said, "That's Marcus Flint, the biggest arse I know. Graduated with Wood and Percy Weasley, as well as Adrian here."

"When you say the biggest arse you know, it confuses me. Is he your friend or not? You call your friends such bad things, I don't know what he is to you," Hermione asked sincerely.

Draco picked up her glass of wine, downed it and said, "No, he certainly is not my friend. I don't like the man at all, and I don't want to play anymore. I don't know what in the bloody hell that man is thinking." He stood up and walked away.

Hermione leaned across the table and said to Adrian, "What did I say? What's wrong?"

"Well, let me take a stab at this game in Malfoy's stead. I can tell you exactly what he's thinking. He's thinking that he hates Malfoy just as much as Malfoy hates him and it all because of you, my dear. All because of you."

"Me? What did I do?" she asked.

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	23. Chapter 23

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**Chapter 23 –**

Draco picked up Hermione's glass of wine, downed it in one gulp, and said, "No, he certainly is not my friend. I don't like the man at all, and I don't want to play anymore. I don't know what the bloody hell the man is thinking!" He stood up and stormed away. He walked down the long corridor toward the main part of the house. He went into the closest room he could reach, which was the morning room, just near the kitchens, and he threw a chair from the table toward a plate glass window, where it shattered the window to shreds.

Damn! He lied when he said he didn't know what Flint was thinking. He knew exactly what the man was thinking, which just infuriated him more at seeing him here. Why was he here? His parents didn't know there was bad blood between them, but Flint knew, so why would he agree to come. Stupid twit could have shown himself earlier. Draco would have shown him the door. "Stupid, sodding bastard!" Draco shouted. He would clean up the mess he had just made, but there was no reason to, because he would probably just throw the chair again. He kicked the table leg and sat down at one of the other chairs.

He had to calm down before he faced the man, or wands would be drawn. He put his head in his hands and said, "Sod it all!" Poor Hermione. He yelled at her for no reason. She didn't even remember the man. She didn't know why he hated him. Hermione. His Hermione. His wife. Dear, sweet, lovely Hermione. His wife. He left her alone in the ballroom. What if that bastard went up to her and tried to talk to her. He would kill him, that's what.

When he thought of what the man said, it made his skin crawl. He would make him pay, and soon. He stood up to go back to the ballroom, when Hermione opened the door.

"Draco?" she asked. The room was dark, but she saw him standing by the table. Then she saw the chair that was thrown through the window. "What happened here?"

"The chair went through the window," he said, as if it was a common occurrence. "How did you know I was here?"

"This is the first room down the corridor from the ballroom, so I thought I would check here first. I would have checked all eighty-five rooms if I had to. What happened back there? Listen, if I made you angry by calling him good looking, I really do apologize. That means nothing, you know that."

"Hermione, it's not that," he said with a sigh. He sat back down. She went to stand by him, and he reached for her hand. He held her injured hand, while she stroked his hair with her right hand. She leaned her standing body against his strong frame, as he leaned forward in the chair.

"Adrian said you don't like Marcus because of me, so I must have done something wrong," she said.

Draco looked up suddenly and said, "Pucey said that?"

"Yes, he did," she said back.

He released her hand and stood up. He began to pace the room, back and forth. She went to stand by the door. It was true that they had only been married two weeks, but she had never seen him angry like this. Even growing up, she had seen him in disagreeable moods, and she had seen him throw fits, but as he paced back and forth, hands clenched into fists at his sides, face red with anger, she knew one thing: she was scared of him, and scared for him. She didn't like that feeling, not one bit. She made to moved closer to him, but she made the mistake of saying, "Let's go back to the party. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad," as she approached him. It was the wrong thing to say. He rushed to her, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her body back toward the wall.

"IT IS THAT BAD!" he said. "And if I go out there right now, I guarantee I will kill the man, and your husband will spend the rest of his life in prison! Do you want that, Granger?"

Tears sprang to her eyes. Oh, he didn't abuse her physically, so no alarm there. She would hex him to next Sunday and back if he ever really laid a hand on her. It was his attitude, and his demeanor, which scared her. In addition, she was concerned for him. It had been a long and tiring day, her hand hurt worse than ever, she was sure her fever was back, she just wanted a long bath and then to go to bed, and to wake up tomorrow and have everything be good again. That was why she cried.

He didn't know that.

He had his hands on her shoulders, and he pushed her into the wall. Not harshly. He really just pushed her toward the wall. He didn't even grab her hard. Yet, she had tears in her eyes. He hurt her, and scared her, and now she was crying. She would probably leave him, now. He immediately pulled her toward him and said in a soothing voice, "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, don't be scared. I would never hurt you."

She cried harder. Lucius stormed into the room as he heard his son say, "I didn't mean to hurt you, please don't be scared. I would never hurt you." Everything after that was a blur. No matter what, Lucius Malfoy never raised a hand to his wife, or his son, and he would never expect that from his son, but he knew of no other explanation for the broken window with a chair through it, a crying daughter-in-law, and an apologizing son, who said he didn't mean to hurt her. He pulled Draco's hands from her arms, and placed his body between theirs.

Lucius said, "What in the world has gotten into you! Storming off, throwing chairs, striking your wife!"

"I didn't hit her, Sir!" Draco shouted.

"Why is she crying?" Lucius asked with his body still between them.

"I don't know, ask her!" Draco shouted.

He turned and said, "Hermione, leave us. Go upstairs to your room." She wanted to be with Draco. She wanted to tell him it would all be okay, but more than anything, she wanted to leave them and go upstairs to her room. She didn't know Adrian was outside the door until she stepped out. He was the one who went and got Lucius when Hermione left to look for Draco. He put his arm around Hermione and escorted her upstairs.

"Tell me this instant, what is wrong with you!" Lucius asked his son.

"Why did you invite Marcus Flint to my party?" Draco asked.

"You work with the man! You've known him all your life. We invited most of the pureblood families, and your former classmates! We told you last Wednesday we were planning this wedding party, and you gave us no provisions or limitations! Now tell me, why you are so opposed to Marcus Flint!"

"How about the fact that he said that the only good Mudblood was a dead one?" Draco stated.

"Draco," Lucius said, "I have said the same thing before, do you hate me? My comment wasn't directed toward your wife, and we all have grown since the Dark Lord was vanquished. So what if he once said that. You have probably said worse. I can't believe all of this…" he spread his arms toward the broken window, "would be because Marcus Flint once said a crass remark about Mudbloods."

"How about if he said it last Wednesday, the very day you told me about this party? What if he said it, already knowing I was married to Hermione! What if he also said, and I quote, 'Mudbloods are at least good for sex, if for nothing else.' What if besides the 'dead Mudblood' comment he also said, 'I can't wait to see her relive being tortured by your aunt the first time she visits with your parents. I hope she feels the pain all over again!' What about that, father? Are those forgivable comments?"

Lucius was shocked and appalled. "He said that just this week. After your marriage? To whom did he say that? Are you certain that they are a reliable source? Perhaps his comments were taken out of context. Perhaps the person who repeated the comments embellished them."

"Let me see Father, do you think your own son is a reliable source? Do you think I would embellish anything that bastard said?" Draco spat.

"He said that to you?" Lucius said with a steady voice.

"Yes father, he said it to me, and here at our house! The day I moved my belongings to Red Rose Cottage!"

XOXOXOXOX

Adrian escorted her to Malfoy's wing. He walked with her down to the bedroom. He opened the door for her and said, "Don't cry anymore, okay?"

"Tell me what in the world has gotten into Draco," she requested.

"It's not my place. Draco will tell you," Adrian said. Hermione sat down on the bed, feeling defeated.

"Just go then, Adrian. You aren't useful."

He gave a little chuckle and said, "Fine, I'll tell you what I know, but where is your wand?"

"In my pocket," she said.

He held out his hand. She gave him a disconcerting look, but handed over her wand. He put it all the way across the room, on the mantle. He sat down beside her and said, "Draco hates Marcus Flint, because last Wednesday, when Draco came over here to collect his belongings, we were going to take him out for an impromptu lunch, celebrating his marriage. Theo Nott heard from a bloke at work that you two married, and he owled Draco's mother to see if it was true. She sent him an owl back telling him that it was, and that she was happy about it, by the way. She told him that you both were spending a week away for a honeymoon, but that after that, he would be moving into your house on Wednesday."

"So Nott told Zabini, who told me, who told Marcus and Welsby, and Goyle that we should come surprise him for lunch. We arrived shortly after he did. We told him our plan, and we even helped him pack. That's when all hell broke loose."

XOXOXOXOX

"We had just finished packing and Blaise and I popped all my belongings to the cottage. Hermione wasn't home, so I left her a note saying I would be back later. We had just gotten back to the Manor, when I heard Marcus say the first thing, about the fact that a Mudblood was only good for sex, and that must be my attraction to her," Draco told his father.

XOXOXOXOX

"Well," Adrian said to Hermione, "Marcus didn't know Blaise and Draco had popped back. Draco heard the comment, and called him out on it. The rest of us told him it was bad form, and told him to apologize to Malfoy. Instead, he said that Draco should be ashamed of bringing the biggest Mudblood of all into a pureblood family, and that even his own father once said an only good Mudblood was a dead one."

XOXOXOXOX

"I saw red, Father," Draco said. "I drew my wand and it took Nott and Goyle to hold Flint back, and Welsby and Zabini to hold me. Pucey was trying to play the damn peacekeeper. He reminded Flint that we had all grown up, and that if we wanted to continue in our world, we needed to get along. Then he reminded Flint that if it wasn't for Harry Potter, Weasley and Hermione, our world would be a dark, black, hole."

XOXOXOXOX

Adrian continued, "After I said my little spill, Flint had the audacity to laugh and say that he hoped the moment you crossed the threshold, if Lucius didn't hex you, that the bad memories of what happened to you here came back to haunt you. It was out of line. Soon, everyone was yelling and screaming. Finally, Nott just took Flint's arm and apparated him the hell out of here."

XOXOXOXOX

"That was when I swore if I saw him again, I would make him pay," Draco said. "I don't even know what caused him to say such things. I have associated with worse bigots in my day. It was truly out of character," Draco reasoned.

XOXOXOXOX

"Frankly," Adrian said, as he stood from the bed, "I think Marcus Flint was jealous. He was always jealous of Malfoy. The best-looking boy in school, from the oldest pureblood family. The richest by far. Everything he touches turns to gold, and he was lucky enough to land Hermione Granger. Believe me, that's the biggest feat of all. It was jealously, plain and simple."

XOXOXOXOX

"No matter what, Father, would you allow someone to talk about your family like that and not make them regret it later?" Draco asked his father.

XOXOXOXOX

"No matter what, Granger, Draco loves you, we all saw that by how passionate he was to defend you. I don't even know how Flint had the nerve to show his face tonight," Adrian said.

XOXOXOXOX

"You have to do me one favour," Lucius told his son. "Put all of that aside, and come back to the party, if only to tell everyone thank you and goodnight. It's been a long day. You need to go to your wife and apologize to her, and make her see she didn't do anything wrong. Don't worry about Flint. It's taken me so many years to learn this lesson, and I learned it the hard way, Son. Forgive the bastard, and don't let his careless words ruin your happiness."

XOXOXOXOX

"You have to do me one favour," Hermione told Adrian. "Go downstairs and ask Marcus Flint to leave. I don't want Draco to do anything he will regret. I'll go back down in a moment, make my apologies to our guests, and tell them all goodnight. I only hope Lucius talks some sense into Draco, and he learns to get past harsh words. I've been called bad names all my life, and while it hurts, more than you will ever know, more than cuts and bruises, I can't let it rule my life, or ruin my happiness."

Adrian Pucey went back to the ballroom and asked Marcus Flint to leave. Marcus said he only came to apologize, but he wouldn't spoil the party. He would leave and try to speak to Draco another time.

Lucius went back to the ballroom and filled his wife in on the recent happenings. She was concerned on the inside, but for appearance's sake, she remained the consummate hostess.

Draco went back to the ballroom and looked for his wife. He arrived as he saw Flint leaving the room. He motioned to Adrian, and Adrian merely pointed behind Draco. Draco turned and saw Hermione. He rushed to her side and drew her into his arms.

"Adrian told me everything, I'm so sorry for you," she said.

"I'm sorry for you, too," he said.

"Can we forgo the rest of the party?" she asked.

"Hell yes, it's gone on too long as it is. I want to get out of this outfit, take a hot shower, have something decent to eat, and make love to my beautiful lover," he said.

"And who pray tell is that, sunshine?" she asked.

"Hmm," he said. He pretended to search the crowd. "I don't see her at the moment, so I'll have to be content with making love with my beautiful wife instead."

"I come in second, once again," she said, shaking her head.

"When were you ever second in anything?" he asked.

"Oh, that's right, I was thinking of you," she laughed. "Since you're telepathic, tell me what else I'm thinking."

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her closely. He said, "You naughty little minx. Fine, if you're good, I'll bring out the whips and chains." She gave him a disapproving look and he said, "Well, now I really know what you're thinking and all I have to say is, ouch, Granger, that's not nice at all." He held her tight, and inhaled deeply, her natural scent filling his body with love and desire. He said, "What am I thinking, my little anti-mind reader?"

"You're thinking that you wish you had some more beet salad?" she asked, jokingly.

"You're useless at this. Everyone always knew it. Shall I spell it out for you, what I'm thinking?" he asked, looking down at her with a smile.

"No, I don't need you to spell it out; I think by that hard thing I feel against my hip, I know exactly what you're thinking."

He laughed and said, "Well, we at least know what you're thinking, you tart." He pulled his wand out of his pocket, where it had been pressing against her hip. He said, "I hope you really didn't think that was what you implied, because this is rather small compared to me."

She took his wand in her hand and said, "I don't know, it seems pretty life-size."

"What am I thinking now, Granger?" he asked with mocked annoyance.

"You're thinking of all the ways you can prove to me that your wand is nowhere near the size of your appendage in question," she said.

"For once you're right, Granger, amazing!"

She smiled and said, "See, Trelawney didn't know what she was taking about, for I make a wonderful seer."

They stayed for only a few moments longer, told everyone goodnight, and went up to their room. They undressed and Draco said, "I will make room for you in the shower, if you want to join me."

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	24. Chapter 24

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**Chapter 24**** – **

Hermione laughed at Draco's remark about the shower. She said, "I am so not up for sex tonight, but you have fun in there by yourself."

He walked out of the bathroom, a towel hanging low on his hips. She did think he looked mighty sexy. She might be tempted. He said, "We have yet to have a night when we haven't made love! It's tradition."

"We've made love today," she pointed out to him.

"But it's almost midnight, so it's nighttime and we make love each night. I will repeat, its tradition," he whined.

"Traditions are made to be broken, Malfoy, and you seriously didn't think we would continue to have sex every night of our married life, did you?" she said, as she threw her nightgown over her shoulders. "Now, go get your shower and then help me change my dressing."

"I will only change your dressing if you have sex with me first."

"You're bonkers," she said. She actually stomped her foot and said, "I'm tired! I don't want to have sex right now! Why can't you understand that?" She went over to the bed and sat down.

She looked at the floor. He sat beside her and said, "If you don't want to, we don't have to. I was joking." He put his arm around her.

She leaned against his body and said, "There's only so much my body can take in one day, you know?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie," he said.

"Hey, you've never called me sweetie before," she said. "I think I like that one. It's much better than Muggle Muffin and my inbred wife." He kissed her cheek and went to take his shower. When he came back a few minutes later, towel back on his hips, his hair now wet, she was on her side, facing away from him, on top of the sheets, covers on the end of the bed. She had opened both of the tall windows, and a nice summer night's breeze blew through the opened windows. He walked over to the other side, and saw she was asleep. He threw the towel on the floor, and lay next to her on top of the sheets, totally naked.

He moved to his side to look at her. She was so pretty in the moonlight. She was pretty any time of the day. He reached his hand out and smoothed down her hair. He leaned forward and placed his hand on her hip and his head on her pillow. He closed his eyes.

Sometime during the night, Hermione woke up and went to the bathroom. She decided to take a bath, since she didn't have one earlier. Draco was asleep beside her, totally naked, on top of the sheets. She pulled the cover over him and went to start the water. She unwrapped her hand, which was sore, red and inflamed. She was slightly worried. She tried to move her fingers, but was having difficulties. Terry told her this morning there was tendon damage. Come Monday morning, she would seek a second opinion and see a specialist. What if there was nerve damage as well? Would this affect her job as a Healer? She turned the water off and sunk in the tub. The hot water felt so good on her tired muscles. She placed her hand on the side of the tub, on top of a towel. She laid back and closed her eyes.

He didn't know how long he had been sleeping, but he woke up and was alone. Hermione must have thrown the covers over him. He was hot, so he kicked them off and he stood up and went over to the dresser to get some clean boxers to put on, and then he looked at the clock. 2:42 am. He went to the bathroom, in search of his wife. She was huddled on the floor, with a towel around her body, in the corner of the bathroom, crying.

"Hey, what's going on here?" he asked as he approached her gingerly. He kneeled down and picked her up easily. He carried her to their bed and placed her down gently. He climbed over her body and pulled her to him. "Long day finally broke you down?" he asked.

"Maybe." She looked up at him. "Will you wrap my hand?" She sat up in the bed, threw off the towel, and reached for her nightgown to put if over her head.

He nodded. He stood up and walked over to get the potions, the ointment, and the bandages. Like an old pro, he gave her all three potions, one at a time. He tenderly applied the ointment to her red, damaged, hand. He wrapped gauze around it and secured it with tape. Once done, he kissed her hand, over the precisely wrapped bandaged. "All better?"

"Yes." She moved slightly so she could removed the nightgown over her head. He cocked one eyebrow.

"Hey, hey, I don't know what you have in mind, but I for one don't need to make love every night. We need a break, remember?" he joked. She bent down to pick up her nightgown again. He grabbed it from her hand and threw it over his shoulder. "Don't be so quick there, Granger. We can negotiate. If you really want to have sex, I have a few spare moments before I have to get back to sleep."

His smile and jovial mannerism warmed her very soul. This was the best medicine she could receive. This was what she needed. She should have known that all along. She fell back on the pillow, and brought her legs up to the bed. He came to the side of the bed, and placed one knee beside her hip. His hands ran over her bare breasts, and down to her ribs. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He bent his head to take a nipple in his mouth, and her good hand went to his head. He reached down and ran his hands over her bare hips and legs. Her skin was still slightly damp, so she must not have been out of the bath for long.

He separated her legs with his hands and climbed back up her body. He kissed her hard as he entered her. So much for pretense. She didn't need foreplay tonight, she just needed to feel him inside her, and sensing this, he met her need by meeting his own. His pleasure coursed through his body and entered hers. The moonlight danced into the dark room, wrapping their bodies in a heavenly glow. It was glorious.

Her hands, both of them, went up and down the long, lean muscles of his back. She could feel his muscles as they contorted and contracted. He moved back and forth on top of her. He cupped her face and kissed her hard, and paused to look at her, when the wave of their lovemaking began to consume them both.

Oh, the soft feel of her honey-dewed skin against his was his ecstasy, his reward. She was really his! He could not believe it. Each time they made love, he was overwhelmed with debt and gratitude, and he hoped that feeling would never evade him. She was the one person in his life that he knew he would never hurt, and she would never hurt him. How did he come to feel so strongly toward her, after only two weeks? He felt like he had these feelings inside him forever. No moment in his life compared to his, and none in the future would, well, until the next time they made love.

He continued to make love to her, to fill her, to possess her, and he wondered how anyone could hurt her. It saddened him to think of her pain, her suffering. Even her hurt hand caused him pain. He was that in tune with her. A groan of pleasure escaped his mouth, as she moaned in silence. Their climaxes joined, and their release synchronized. He could die right now, and die a happy man. He fell against her, and quickly moved to her side. He pulled her to his chest, and she snuggled in his arms.

"For the record, you didn't get your way. It is officially morning, so we didn't make love last night," she said.

Funny little Granger. He really thought she was a riot. He stroked her hair and said, "For your information, I really did get my way, because this was so much better."

She reached for her wand, said a quick cleansing spell to them both, and then a spell on her own hand, for the pain. He sat up and said, "Didn't the pain medicine work?"

"Sure, it's nothing," she said. She reached down, put her nightgown back on, and pulled up the sheet. He turned back to his side, and touched her face, gently. "What else can I do from your list before we leave here in the morning?" she asked.

He leaned over her, took her wand from the nightstand, because he wasn't sure where his was, and said, "Accio Draco's list." The list flew to his hand. He lit the wand and looked at the list.

He read, "The only ones you have left to do are, have a girl watch a sporting event with you, the whole thing, and not complain about it once, have a girl give you a massage, never hear the words, "I have a headache". Have a girl lie in bed with you all day long on a Sunday, read the paper together, do the crosswords, and have sex at least five times. So four more things."

"Okay, how about this," she said. "I can't do the massage, because of my hand, but I think I already did that one, didn't I? I didn't say I had a headache just now, so let us go ahead and cross that one off the list as well," she said.

He interrupted and said, "I will agree to cross that off the list if you agree not to contest sex the next five, no, ten times I ask for it."

"That's negotiable. How about I won't say no the next seven times you ask for it, but you can't ask all seven times in one day," she said.

He thought for a moment and said, "I like it, what else do you have to say?"

"Well," she started, "the Sunday one could only happen if we leave here early in the morning and go right home and stay in bed all day, but I have a better suggestion. Let's plan that for next Sunday. Make it a date or something. We have never planned a date, because we went right to being married. It might be fun to have something to anticipate, and to look forward to something."

He nodded and said, "I like your style. We can do all of them next Sunday, agreed?" He put the list and her wand on his nightstand and pulled her back into his arms. "Agreed, Granger?" he repeated.

"It's a date, Malfoy." It was a date.

He took a deep, satisfying breath and said, "Would it be terribly redundant for me to tell you that I love you?"

"You do what you must, okay?" She yawned.

He said, "I love you, Hermione. More than I love anyone or anything, and more than I thought possible. I love you. I love you like the flowers love the rain. I love you like the stars love the moon. I love you like the earth loves the sun." He felt terribly romantic as he professed his love to the woman he loved after making sweet love. It was all love, love, rainbows, and love. He looked down and she was sleeping. HA! He just professed his love, no, he waxed on poetically of his love to her, and she was sleeping. Where was the justice?

He closed his eyes to join her in slumber. He had time to tell her it all again in the morning, and the next day, and the next day, infinity.

He woke up, as the room was still dark, but not nighttime dark, early morning, pre-dawn dark. He sat up in bed and looked at his wife, resting so peacefully. He felt wide-awake and fully revived; even though he was certain he hadn't gotten much sleep. He went to take a shower, and then quietly walked back out to the bedroom. He went to the dresser, grabbed some shorts, socks, and jeans, and then went to the closet to grab a t-shirt and oxford shirt. He opened the closet door, and there was just enough light in the room for him to see something that he was not ashamed to say later made him scream like a little girl!

Hermione shot up out of bed, having heard Draco's scream, and instinctively looked for her wand, which she usually left on the nightstand. She didn't see it so she ran out of bed and toward her husband, who was still standing by the closet door, his hand on his chest, and his breathing ragged.

"What is it?" she yelled, fear lacing her voice. Everything happened so fast, she thought she might be dreaming. He pointed toward what made him scream, and she couldn't help it, she had to laugh.

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	25. Chapter 25

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**Chapter 25 –**

Draco pointed at the inside of the closet door and said, "What is that thing doing here! I thought I destroyed one copy and you destroyed the other!"

"Silly, Malfoy," she said, approaching him slowly. She put her hand on his cheek and patted it lightly. "It's a funny little thing called Magic, being a pureblood, I thought perhaps you had heard of it. Anyway, I placed it here yesterday when you went downstairs with your mum and I stayed up here to check on the pregnancy test. Besides, you fixed it for me, remember?"

"Take it down right now!" he said.

"Gags, Malfoy, if it means so much to you, you take it down. I have to go to the toilet." She walked away from him.

He looked at the poster and said, "This house, big as it may seem, Mister, is only big enough for one good looking blond!" He ripped the poster off the door, to find another one. He ripped it off as well, and yet another appeared! He did it several more times, and each time, another took the previous ones place! He was quickly becoming frustrated. He still couldn't find his wand, (after all, who looks in the pockets of the slacks he wore the night before, correct?) so he took her wand from his nightstand and pointed it toward the offensive poster!

He tried every single spell, hex and charm he knew, and the damn thing kept reappearing. Soon, he had discarded, shreds of posters, all around him, and yet, there was still one on the door. She came out of the bathroom, after having washed her face, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair. She said, "Excuse me, gentlemen." She reached in the closet, took out a white, short sleeve blouse, stepped back into the room, leaned forward, kissed the poster, and said, "I love you, Justin!"

"Excuse me, Granger!" he yelled.

She leaned over, kissed his cheek, and said, "I love you, too!"

She opened the dresser drawer, retrieved her knickers, bra and a pair of red shorts, and stepped back into the bathroom, laughing the whole way.

He looked back at the poster and said, "You haven't won yet, pretty boy!"

Hermione stepped back out of the bathroom, and slipped some sandals on her feet. Draco was fully dressed, in his jeans, white shirt, grey t-shirt, and was leaning against the door jam of the closet. The closet was sans a door.

"Where is the closet door, Malfoy?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"What closet door, Muggle Muffin?" he asked.

She pointed and said, "The one that used to hang right there."

"Oh," he said. "I was tired of that old thing. I decided to vanquish it. I believe it's somewhere in the bottom of the pond. We can look for it later, when we take our walk of the property."

She shook her head and said, "That wasn't nice."

He stepped up to her and said, "No, I will tell you what isn't nice, my little woman. It isn't nice to flaunt your ex loves to your current love."

"But he's Justin!" she said, with a fake frown. "You can't deny me Justin. If you even want me to consider living here someday, I have to be free to redecorate."

"I will burn the whole wing down, before I let you do that, my cherished little Mudblood," he said.

She narrowed her gaze and said, "That one was below the belt, you pureblooded bully. Calling your wife, the supposed love of your life, a Muggle Muffin, and then picking on poor, little, defenseless boy band posters are one thing, but calling me that other name is unacceptable, by far." She wasn't going to ignore the 'Mudblood' comment, even though she knew he didn't really mean it.

She made to walk past him and he grabbed her waist. He stood behind her and nibbled on her neck. "I'm jealous, and you know it." He continued to kiss her neck. He reached down for her hand, and she hissed. He turned her in his arms and said, "That's it, we're going to St. Mungo's before we even go down for breakfast. It's still early, and my parents are probably still in bed."

"No, I'll see someone about it tomorrow," she promised.

"No, we will see someone about it right now and preferable not some stupid, former Ravenclaw," he said.

"You can't blame Terry!" she said.

"No, but I can blame myself," he said. "Please, for my own peace of mind, let's go see why it isn't healing properly."

She sighed and leaned against his chest. "I might not like what they tell me."

"I might not like Harry Potter, but that doesn't mean I can avoid him," Draco said. She pushed from his chest and hit him on the arm. "Come on; humour me, if for no other reason than the fact that you love me. You actually owe me one, since I almost had a heart attack when I saw your old boyfriend's picture on the closet door. I seriously thought for the briefest moments that a man was in the closet."

She laughed and said, "And this man in the closet was one dimensional and hanging from the closet door?"

He laughed too and said, "I'm being quite serious. I really thought it was an intruder. In the dim light, I thought it was real. The sky outside was still mostly dark, and I didn't want to turn on the overhead light and wake you,"

"So you screamed like a five-year-old girl to wake me up, instead?" she asked.

"Enough questioning my manhood, it is getting old, and I think we have already established my masculinity is my best quality. We're going to St. Mungo's right now." He took her arm and apparated her to the lobby of the Wizarding Hospital.

She hit his arm again and said, "I hate side-along apparating!"

"Yes, well, I do too, but you do it to me enough," he said with a whine. He walked up to the reception area and said, "I'm Mister Malfoy and I need to see your best Healer, and I will spare no expense. I'm not above giving you money. My wife, who is employed here, and is a Malfoy, also, by the way, is the patient, so spare no expense, and call your best Healer now."

Hermione shook her head in embarrassment and said, "Hi, Mindy."

"Hi, Hermione," she said, slightly dazed. "So the rumours are true, you married Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, that would be the git right beside me," Hermione said. "Could you perhaps call Joseph Carlisle for me?" She turned to Draco and explained, "He's the head Healer here, and a very gifted one at that. He's highly respected."

"Get him immediately, then," Draco said, leaning back toward the girl. He reached in his pocket and threw several gold coins on her desk.

"Draco, let's go sit down," Hermione said, still shaking her head. She looked back at Mindy and smiled apologetically. She motioned toward the chairs to Draco.

Healer Carlisle came walking toward them a few moments later. He smiled at Hermione and shook her hand. Next, Draco stood and shook his hand. He said, "What's going on, Hermione?"

She explained about the laceration yesterday, and how Terry Boot healed it, but said there might be some tendon damage. She told him about the infection, and how it wouldn't heal, and was still causing her pain. He took her to an examination room. Draco didn't know if he should follow or remain. He decided to follow, but she motioned for him to remain, by lifting her hand. He sat back down. He would do as she wished, for now.

Joseph looked at her hand, as he slowly unwrapped the bandage. "So, the hand is infected, and it won't seem to heal, correct?" She nodded. "Tell me, any other symptoms?"

"I have been very tired, but it's been a hell of a couple of weeks, since I just married two weekends ago, and this weekend has been so busy, I can't even explain to you. I had some nausea and vomiting. To be truthful, I have noticed an increase in my urine outtake, and I have been very thirsty."

He nodded and looked at her carefully and said, "Any vision changes, tingling in your hands and feet?"

"Oh, Joseph, you don't think what I think you think, do you?" she said.

"Hermione, you're a bright woman and an excellent Healer, one of the best at diagnosing and an expert on Muggle-born illnesses. You know exactly what I'm thinking, but a simple test will either confirm or deny our suspicions, and then we can go from there."

A short while later, Healer Carlisle walked out to Draco with a smile. Draco saw that as a good sign. He stood up and said, "So, will she keep the hand?" and he laughed.

The older man looked pensive for a moment and said, "I hope so." He smiled at Draco, who didn't understand. He motioned for Draco to sit back down. "Hermione has a disease that affects mainly Muggles, and Muggle-borns. Most Wizards don't suffer from this disease, because it has a genetic link usually, and fortunately, most Wizards are immune to this link."

Draco almost felt like growling, but he said, "Continue." Already, he was unhappy. His wife had a DISEASE!

The Healer said, "She has an illness called type one diabetes. It's a disease in which blood glucose levels are above normal. Most of the food we eat is turned into glucose, or sugar, to help our bodies run, and give us energy. The pancreas, which is an organ near the stomach, makes a hormone called insulin, which helps the glucose get into the cells of our body, to help us live, basically. When someone has diabetes, their body either doesn't make enough insulin, or can't properly use the insulin as well as it should, which causes the sugar to build up in their blood."

"What does that mean?" Draco asked.

"It means she's very sick right now, but it's something that can be managed."

"You mean healed," Draco urged.

"I mean managed. She has type one diabetes, which used to be called insulin dependent diabetes. It's suspected that this disease follows exposure to some environmental trigger, such as an unidentified virus, which stimulates an immune attack against the cells in the pancreas, which produced insulin, to people who are genetically predisposed to diabetes. Hermione is predisposed. Her grandfather had type one diabetes."

"But she won't die, right?" Draco said.

"Many people do die every year from the disease, but if she continues to live a health lifestyle, and she checks her sugar levels everyday, and takes her medication, she should manage her illness fine," he said. He stood up and said, "She's not taking the news very well. For some reason, she thinks this illness makes her weak. She's funny like that. I've known her a long time, and she finds illness a sign of weakness, but only when it comes to herself, not to others. Silly, right?" He shook Draco's hand and Draco understood what the man was trying to say.

He needed to be strong for his wife. He couldn't faint any more at silly things like blood. He couldn't scream at the appearance of a poster. In addition, he really couldn't threaten to kill a man because the man said mean things about her. In a mere second, Draco Malfoy finally became an adult. A man. Thanks to Hermione Granger Malfoy, no hyphen.

Hermione walked out of the room, carrying a small bag.

He said, "What's that, a present for me?"

"No, its things I need for my illness," she said slowly.

"Well, that's not fair. They give you a present, and not me? Do they know I'm the husband of Hermione Granger Malfoy? Perhaps we should tell them, right away."

She had to smile, and she said, "I think they're all aware of that little fact."

He took her hand and said, "We have a big day planned."

"Did Joseph tell you everything?" she asked.

"He certainly did," he said. He took the bag from her other hand. He said, "Why don't you apparate us back. I feel a bit tired, and you're the stronger one of us two, aren't you?" Draco knew no better way to be strong, than to admit that he was weak. Crazy, but true.

She gave him a small smiled and said, "Well, let's go back to the Manor. I for one can't miss breakfast any longer. I have to start watching what I eat from now on, and take proper care of myself."

"I'll take care of you and me, right old girl, and by the way, if you have to eat better, that means you might need to learn to cook a bit better," he said.

She frowned and said, "I'm a good cook."

"HA!" he said. "You're so delusional. You don't even know the difference between Eggs florentine and Eggs Benedict, sweetie. No, I think I'll ask your father for some cooking lessons. Best leave that to me. I don't even think you should be trusted with a knife again." He smiled and kissed her cheek. He pulled her tightly into his arms and said quietly in her ear, "I am really so, so, sorry about causing you this injury, Hermione, can you ever forgive me?"

She pushed away from him, as she did earlier when they were fighting about the poster, and she said, "You stupid man! If you hadn't caused me to cut my hand, we might not have learned about my disease until it was too late. You saved my life, Draco." Tears welled up in her eyes. "You saved my life in so many, many ways, my little, pureblood bully."

"Let me continue to make up the nicknames, Granger." He hugged her again and smiled because he saved her life, and she saved his, so perhaps they were meant to be together after all.

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	26. Chapter 26

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**Chapter 26 –**

Hermione claimed she wanted to lie down before breakfast. Draco told her they usually ate breakfast at eight o'clock, and he would come up for her in a half an hour. He walked down the stairs, and contemplated what to do next. First thing Monday morning, he was going to find out everything he could about this disease. He could always just ask her, but she would undoubtedly gloss over things, and not tell him everything he wanted to hear.

Next, he felt her parents had a right to know. He wondered if she would tell them. Hermione was always so protective of her parents. He wondered if he had the right to tell his parents. He wondered if he should tell her friends. He wondered, wondered, wondered. He sat on the bottom step and hung his head. His mother started down the stairs. He heard her lilting footsteps, but he couldn't just pretend nothing was wrong. He knew she would ask him what was the matter, and frankly, he wanted her to. He waited.

"Draco, darling, what are you doing sitting on the steps?"

He turned and stood. He rushed to his mother's arms. She was almost knocked down the remaining steps. Lucius followed down after, saw his son rush to his mother's arms, and waited.

"Oh, Mother, what shall I do?" he asked.

She stroked his hair and asked, "About what?"

"I took Hermione back to St. Mungo's early this morning," he said. Lucius rushed to his family's side.

"Where is she now?" he asked.

"Upstairs resting," he said with his head still on his mother's shoulder.

Lucius put his hand on his son's back and said, "Let's go downstairs and you can tell us what happened."

Hermione sat upstairs and looked at the contents of the little bag. There was a Muggle glucose reader, and vials of medicine. Even though she was a witch, the best way to get her insulin was by injections, just as it would be with Muggles. Hermione had given shots before, but she didn't know if she could give them to herself. She started to cry. Draco walked back in the room, his mother and father behind him. He knocked on the door, even though he had already opened it. She looked up at him, saw his parents and quickly dried her eyes.

"Is breakfast ready?" she asked.

Draco came to her and knelt by the bed. He took the strange little box from her. He said, "What's this?"

"It measures my blood sugar."

"How?"

She showed him on herself. No time like the present. Her blood sugar was 112. Pretty good. She explained how she needed to check her levels twice a day, sometimes more. She showed him the medication, and the needles. He sat by her on the bed, and frowned. Hermione found she had a little audience, as Lucius and Narcissa walked in the room and watched as well.

"Do the shots hurt?" he asked.

"A bit, I suppose," she said.

"You have to give them to yourself?" he asked.

"Well, yes, I mean, sometimes people have others give them their shots. It's always good to have other people in your family know how to do these things, in case you ever need help, or become incapacitated."

"Will you teach me how to give you a shot?" Draco asked.

"You might faint," Lucius said. Hermione had to laugh, although Draco gave his father a stern look. "Enough talk for now. Hermione has to eat well, you said, as part of her treatment, so I suggest we go down for breakfast."

After breakfast, Hermione and Draco decided to take that walk of the grounds. They set off, and traveled to the small brook he told her about, which meandered across the massive property. The vast expanse of land was breathtaking. The brightness of the day seemed to illuminate the gardens, giving Hermione a renewed sense of spirit, with the new bright day. A pleasant summer breeze blew across their faces, and Hermione had the need to run. She said, "Catch me Draco, and if you do, I will give you a kiss!" She started running down a meadow of wildflowers. He watched her for a long time before he decided to set out after her. This must be her way of saying she was going to be okay. She wasn't going to be defined by an illness. It didn't and wouldn't make up whom she was. It would merely be a part of her, like brown eyes, and curly hair. She couldn't change those things, and she couldn't change her illness, but by God, she could live with them.

She turned to see if he gave chase yet, and he had. She squealed in delight and ran faster. She ran faster than she had ever run in her life, and she felt free! She started down a decline, and curled around a little tree. He stopped with a stitch in his side.

"STOP, Granger! I can't run anymore!"

She stopped and said, "That doesn't mean I have to stop!"

"Well, let me catch my breath," he said.

She walked up to him slowly, suddenly he sprang at her, and he started to run again. She screamed and turned to run, but he caught her and twirled her around three times. He fell on his backside, cushioning her fall. She leaned over his body and said, "I guess you get to kiss me, because you caught me."

"No, I don't really want to kiss you," he said. He let go of her back, and threw his arms over his head. "I think you should kiss me, instead."

Hermione lay down with her head on his stomach. "I'm not in the mood." She pointed to the tops of the trees and said, "Look how those trees are spaced just perfectly apart."

He was still breathing hard, perhaps harder because her head was pressing into his diaphragm, and he said, "Yes, well, they were planted that way. Everything on this property is by design. Nothing grows here that wasn't planted here. Everything is in its proper place, and well thought out. There's nothing arbitrary or accidental here."

She turned and propped herself over his body, her weight on her outstretched arm. "Really, you mean, all those wildflowers we ran through were planned?"

"Planned."

"How about this little clover," she said, as she leaned down and plucked a single piece of clover. He propped himself up on his elbow. He reached for it and threw it aside.

"Best not tell my father about it, he would have the gardener's hide if he knew a piece of clover grew randomly without prior consent."

Hermione laughed and fell down on his chest. He put his arms back around her. She said, "We do have a lot to discuss, with my new little illness, but let's make a pact not to ruin this weekend. Let's not tell anyone else, and let's not talk about it, or its ramifications, until Monday, okay?" She leaned forward and kissed his parted lips. She pressed on his lips gently at first, as if he were precious and might break. He pulled her tighter toward him, and she pressed harder. He rolled them over and he deepened the kiss even more. She felt his kiss all the way to her soul.

"Wow, that was rather nice," she said.

"I do believe I have my moments." He kissed her cheek and said, "On a scale of one to ten, what would you rate that kiss?"

She seemed really to give it some thought and said, "A seven."

He looked hurt. He sat upright, his left arm still on the other side of her body and said, "No bloody way! An effing seven! Let me try again." He leaned over and brought his lips to hers, to try for a better score. A SEVEN? His hand cupped her cheek, and his chest pressed against her soft breasts, as he kissed her open, willing mouth. She responded in kind, and he thought her mouth was pliable and warm. He could taste the sweetness of her kiss, the willingness to please and be pleased.

She made a little moaning sound, as he once again rolled with her, bringing her back on top of him. Her lips tingled. His kiss urged her on, with delight and desire. This kiss was longer, and more intense. He opened her mouth with his, and he wanted her, just like this, forever. His hand stroked her back, up and down, and finally rested on her bum, and cupped it lightly.

He moved once more, to be on top again, and his hand cupped her breast over her shirt, and rubbed her nipple through her clothing. His hand slid down her side, to her hip, to her bare thigh. He pulled her leg up. She finally pushed him away and said, "I will not make love to you in the Manor's gardens."

They were both breathing hard, and he almost collapsed on top of her, his head buried in her neck. He finally looked at her and said, "By golly, you already have a ring on your finger and my name, so it's my right to ravish you anywhere I please."

She laughed. At him! She pushed him off her and he put his hands over his eyes. He clenched his teeth. She put her hand on his chest and said, "My poor, little, frustrated caveman."

She leaned down, kissed his chin, and got up on her knees. She stood up and offered her hand to him. He looked up at her and hit her hand away. She offered it again, and he hit it again. "Draco, be a man and take my hand."

He smiled. "That sounded weird," he said. She offered her hand once more, and when he tried finally to take it, she withdrew it and ran off again.

"HA! HA!" she yelled.

"You're mean, Granger." He sat on the ground with his knees bent up to his body. She ran all the way to the field of wildflowers and began to pick some. He lumbered over to her.

"You're in trouble. No one is allowed to pick these flowers," he said.

"You picked a clover," she said.

"You picked the clover," he reminded. He began to pick flowers, too. "Why are we picking flowers?" he asked.

"To make a chain to wear around my neck," she said.

"Why?"

"Because it will be pretty," she said, annoyed.

"Is this something poor Muggles do because they can't afford real jewelry?" he joked.

When she gave him that, 'You better be joking look', he held up his hands in surrender. He continued to pick flowers until she stopped. She sat down and began to make a chain of flowers. He watched her, and then started to make his own.

"I bet mine will be nicer," he challenged.

"Doubtful, Malfoy," she said.

"Let's have a contest. See who makes the nicest, prettiest, chain necklace out of flowers," he said. He reached over and pulled on her chain and said, "Ah, look, yours broke already."

"Because you're a prat," she said. She moved slightly away from him. "Who will judge this contest?"

"I will," he said.

"No," she said firmly.

"My mother," he amended.

"Oh, like she wouldn't be partial," she said.

"Fine, my father." He laughed.

"He would roll his eyes and tell us to grow up," Hermione said.

"And he might even take us out of the will, so maybe we should stick to my mother. We won't tell her who made which," he reasoned.

He noticed that she had begun to weave a second row of flowers through the first, making a beautiful garland of flowers. Ingenious. He said, "No magic, either."

"I can hold to that, but can you?" she asked.

"Yes, stupid," he said.

She gave him another disconcerting look and said, "I prefer Muggle Muffin." She noticed that he started another chain, which he attached to the first chain, with the stems of a different flower. His was more ornate than hers was, as it almost resembled a Hawaiian lei. "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

"I am naturally artistic," he said truthfully. "I'm good at everything I do," he then said, unabashed. She put her chain down, and went to pick some more flowers.

She turned back and said, "Don't touch my necklace!"

"Oh, like I haven't heard girls say that before," he whined.

She went over to where she saw some pretty daisies and bent down to pick them. She looked back over and Draco had disappeared. She frankly didn't care, as long as he hadn't touched her necklace. She should have brought it with her. She started back, when she saw him on a low-lying branch of a tree, legs dangling, and her unfinished necklace around his neck, his in his hand. She wouldn't have seen him if he hadn't whistled to call her attention. She glanced up and said, "Get down here so we can finish."

"I'm finished, isn't mine pretty?" he said, pointing to the necklace around his neck. He tossed his down. If she were judging the contest, she would actually say his was prettier, but oh well.

She picked up his necklace, put it around her neck, and threw the daisies down. She reached up with one hand and placed her foot on a large root of the tree. She hoisted herself up to a branch right below where he was. "I've never climbed a tree before."

"Seriously? Odd," he remarked. He held out his hand to her and scooted over.

"Will it hold us both?" she asked.

"But of course, do you think I would put the most precious person in my life in danger, or you?" He laughed at his own joke.

"You're the stupid one," she gleamed. She sat beside him. She was slightly afraid. She looked over at him, perched next to her; he now had one leg on each side of the branch, arms not even holding onto anything. He looked like he belonged there. She was holding on for dear life. Maybe he was naturally good at everything he did. However, she was the type that could become good at things, but she had to work hard.

He suddenly stood up, and held on to the branch above their heads. He stepped over her and moved back to the base of the tree. He reached over for a high branch, which was on the other side. He somehow swung his body up to that branch, and now he had his back to her. He turned his head toward her and said, "Come join me."

"I'm fine here."

"The view is perfect from here, you can see the whole property," he said.

"I'll see it on foot, later," she waned.

"But you would be by me here," he continued.

"Draco, I want down," she said truthfully. "I'm afraid of heights; remember the roof incident at the Burrow? Thus, the reason I never climbed a tree."

He started back over toward her. She was afraid he would fall. "But you climbed this high, what's a little higher?"

"More fear, more terror, a hitch in my throat, my ears popping, a dry mouth, that's what is a little higher," she said. He stepped over her, and sat down next to her.

"Well," he thought aloud, "we're married now, and that means concessions must be made. Sometimes I have to do things for you, sometimes you have to do things for me, and sometimes, like now, we have to meet somewhere in the middle."

She smiled and said, "You should write a book on marriage."

"Oh, I've thought about it," he laughed. "I would call it, 'How to Marry Your Very own Muggle-born in Twenty-four Hours or More', and it would teach all purebloods how to be happy like me."

"Tell me a chapter title," she said. She reached for his leg.

"Fresh," he said.

"Fear," she said. He placed his hand on her leg.

"The first chapter would be, 'Comforting your Muggle-born at her old boyfriend's wedding."

"What things would you tell them to do?" she asked.

"Be witty, pleasant; offer them alternatives when they want to get drunk on Vodka, that sort of thing."

"What's the next chapter?" she inquired.

"Make your Muggle-born laugh by sharing a mutual joke," he said.

"What did you do to make me laugh at first?" she asked.

"We made fun of people, remember, the pug faced, peacock, hat wearing, mother of the bride?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, what about chapter three?" she asked.

"It would be about how to chase your little Muggle Muffin around, get in a cake fight, and the like. I don't have anything specific for it yet," he said. "I think I'll suggest kissing them about chapter four."

"Which would be about hour four," she said.

"Yes, best not to rush things," he agreed.

"Not if you're waiting until hour twenty-four to wed, no, best not to rush things," she said. She had a far away look on her face.

"What are you thinking?" he asked. She moved to the base of the tree, hugged it tightly, and started to climb down. As soon as her feet hit the dirt, he jumped down from the branch.

"We really should write a book," she said.

He laughed.

"I mean it, Malfoy. The way you courted me was perfect. I know it wasn't as carefully planned as you would like me to think, and I know most of it was thought off the cuff, but I'm serious. Men would buy it because you would really give them great pointers, and women would buy it for the romance factor. Let's write a book! You said you don't want to go to work again, because you were bored with your job. I don't know if I want to go back to work. Let's write a book!"

When she repeated the last line, he held her hand and said one word, "No."

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	27. Chapter 27

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**Chapter 27 –**

"Why dismiss my idea, Draco? Give it some thought. It could be fun, and profitable. You like money," she reminded him. He laughed at her.

"I have plenty of money, and I also like my privacy. Besides, I don't want to give away all my secrets, if I do, the whole world might find their true loves and be as happy as I am, and that would throw the balance of things off kilter," he said. "The world exist as it does now, because there are equal amounts of sad people and happy people."

"You don't mean that," she said lightly. "Listen, I just thought of this, but I really think we should give it a go. We could alternate chapters. Like you could write chapter one, on a certain subject, from the male point of view, and I could write the next one with a feminine point of view. Oh, it could be a lark to work together!"

"Are you serious about this?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, let's do it! I could take a short leave of absence from work, and you could quit or do the same. We would get to spend loads of time together. You're so witty and you really are very sweet and romantic," she continued. "Your humour and wit will translate lovely to the written word."

"Tell me more wonderful things about myself," he said. He sat down on the grass and twirled a piece in his fingers.

"Blimey, Draco, you already know how wonderful you are," she said.

"It never hurts for someone else to say it once in a while. Sometimes I get tired of telling myself how wonderful I am," he said with a laugh.

She bounded over to him and sat up on her knees, by his side. "I have it pictured perfectly. We could write about our 'courtship' so to speak. We could include your theory on speed dating. We could write about how we got to know each other, about the little games we played. We could even include our lists!" Hermione's eyes brightened and he had to smile. He thought she was so pretty when she was thinking and scheming.

"What else? You have me intrigued," he said.

"Well, you could have one chapter, and call it something like, 'A Man Doesn't Want a Wife, He Needs One', and then my chapter could be called, 'A Woman Doesn't Need a Husband, She Wants One'. See, they would be different perspectives on the same things. One from a man's point of view and one from a woman's."

"You would be the woman, I presume?" he asked.

"Naturally," she answered, "And for purposes of our book, we could pretend that you're the man."

He knocked her over. She fell on her side and he pounced. He hovered over her and said, "Say it outright, Granger! You mean to say one chapter would spout all these lies and fabrications, and then one chapter would be **right,** yours."

"Well, when you put it like that," she said, "I suppose that could be considered."

He kissed her mouth and said, "I'll think about it. It might not be a bad deal." He let her sit back up. "But how do we know anyone would buy it? Or even publish it?"

"Come on, Malfoy, you're Draco Malfoy, pureblood, only son of Lucius and Narcissa. You're one of the richest, most handsome men in our world, and I refuse to say anymore nice things about you unless you wipe that smile off your face," she said, folding her arms in front of her.

"Sorry, continue," he said.

"Well, I'm Hermione Granger, Muggle-born, refuted brightest witch of her age, best friend of the 'Boy Who Lived', 'War Hero'. Everyone would buy our book, because we have a built in audience, and publishers would beat down our door to buy the rights."

"Okay, let's say I agree to write this book with you. What else will we reveal? Our lovemaking techniques?" he asked.

"No, it's not going to be pornographic," she replied. "We could start, like I said, with our story. We could interlace that with our different point of views. Add our lists, and maybe even interview our friends. Find out what a bloke really wants from a girl, and what a girl really wants from a man."

"I already know that. A man wants a woman who will keep dinner on the stove, who will dress like a tramp in the bedroom, and a lady in front of their friends. One who has big breasts, and a flat stomach, long blond hair, and no thoughts in her pretty little head."

She gave him perhaps the meanest look he had ever received from her. How to handle this situation? He was obviously joking, and she obviously didn't find it amusing. He said, "What, did I get it wrong?"

She stood up and started to walk away. He rushed to her and stopped in front of her, to keep her from storming away. She was biting her bottom lip, and her hands were clenched in fists at her side. "Hell, Granger, I was joking, because you aren't any of those things, and you're the perfect woman, and the only woman I have ever or would ever want. You're the one for whom I have waited a lifetime. You know I was joking. I don't even like blonds, and you know big breasts apparently don't matter to me."

She stomped her foot and said, "Sometimes you are so annoying! Sometimes I don't know if you're really stupid, or just acting stupid! Just once, I would like you to take things seriously, and not always go for the laugh and play the fool! I wish you would think before you talk, and try really hard not to hurt my feelings all the time. Even when you call me things like Muggle Muffin, it hurts my feelings, and we can't go through a lifetime of our marriage with you acting like this, and me keeping my feelings on the subject locked up inside. It won't work."

"Then we better get started on that book right away, so I know how to act, and we can save other lovesick fools from making mistakes with their true loves," he said, seriously. "I remember after our wedding I called you 'Beloved', and you said you liked that. You also said you liked 'Sweetie', so I'll call you those from now on, agreed?"

She cocked her head to the side and said, "I don't mean to put out your flame, so to speak. I just want Draco Malfoy, with a spark, and I don't want Draco Malfoy, with fireworks, understand?"

"No, I really don't," he said. She frowned. He laughed and said, "I know, I'm doing it again. You want me to turn it down a notch or two. You want Draco on five, not Draco on ten. You want me to be sensitive to your feelings, and stop acting stupid. I get it. I'm not really stupid, I just play a stupid person for the sake of laughs."

She sighed. "I still love you, faults and all."

"Good thing, because I love you, faults and all," he said. "Oh, and we were both talking about your faults, right?"

"DRACO!" she scolded.

"I thought you loved it when I irritated you?" he asked. "I really do love you, Sweetie," he said. He brushed his hand down her face. "I love you so much." He leaned over and kissed her lips passionately. When he lifted his face from hers he said, "Can I keep the fireworks when we're in bed?"

"Of course, that was implied," she joked.

"If they make a Hollywood movie about us, who would play me?" he asked.

She fell down on the ground, laughing. "Who is talking movies?"

He leaned over and tickled her and said, "I want to know these things!"

She sat up suddenly and said, "Oh, that Daniel Craig, the new James Bond, he's blond and yummy. He could play you."

"I was rather thinking that Brad Pitt fellow," Draco said.

"He's American. We should have Brits play us," she said. "Who would play me?"

"Dame Judy Dench?" he asked.

He laughed as she tackled him this time. She hit his chest and said, "What?"

"Well, she's British, and she's in just about every damn Muggle movie I've ever seen," he said.

"She's a wonderful actress, and a nice person, I'm sure, but a bit old to play me," she said.

"You're older than I, no I think Dame Judy would be good, or, oh, how about Maggie Smith?" Draco said.

Hermione giggled and said, "I always thought she would be a perfect Minerva McGonagall if they ever made a Harry Potter movie."

"Yeah, I can see that," Draco said.

"Can't you think of anyone younger to play me?" she asked.

"I'll think about it, and get back to you." He stood up and offered her his hand. She hit it away, as he did earlier. He offered it again and said, "This will be my last offer."

"Tsk, Tsk, you're a rude bugger," she said. She took his hand and he pulled her up.

"You know, Granger," he said, pulling her in for a tight hug. "No one compares with your beauty, so no one could ever play you and give you credit."

"That's sweet," she said. She rested her head on his chest.

"Add 'sweet' to my long list of wonderful things that I am," he said. He rocked them back and forth, his arms tight around her, her hands on his chest. "What time is it?" he asked.

She pushed from his chest and said, "You have a watch." Still, she took his wrist and looked at the watch. She said, "It's 11:00 am. Why?"

"We're leaving for the Burrow by noon, remember?" he said. "We should go spend some more time with my parents, and pack and things."

"Oh, right," she said. As they walked back toward the house she asked, "Who would play your parents in the movie?"

"That's a scary thought. I can't imagine," he said. "I wonder who in the world they could get to play old Lightening Bolt."

"I bet that would be an easy part to cast," she said, defending her friend Harry. "Would we have to put Pansy in the movie?"

"Tell you what; I think they have all sorts of animals who are available for movie parts. They could cast a pug in her place," Draco said.

Hermione laughed so hard she snorted. He kissed her hand and said, "Oh, how I have missed your snort."

They went in the house, hand in hand, still laughing, and wondering, who would play Draco and Hermione.

What do you think?

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	28. Chapter 28

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**Chapter 28 –**

As the couple was packing to leave, Hermione said, "Will your mother say anything about the fact that the closet door is gone?" Draco walked over to the bed, reached under, and pulled out a large white door. "It isn't in the bottom of the stream?" she asked playfully.

"You know by now not to believe anything I say." He placed the door back to the closet, and attached it with magic, the JT poster still on the inside. "Besides, I doubt she will come back in here, now that it's redecorated. She'll respect our privacy. We can always make the wing password protected though and put wards up so only we can apparate and disapparate in and out, if you'd like."

She actually liked that idea. She packed her clothing and said, "What would our password be?"

"I take it Muggle Muffin is out, right?" he asked.

"Draco, do you learn nothing from your mistakes?" she asked, arms folded.

"Apparently not," he said lightly. "How about 'kinky hot sex'?"

"How about 'no'?" she said back. "How about Timberlake?"

"What does that mean?" he asked. She smiled. He must have forgotten Justin's last name, or perhaps she had never mentioned it to him.

"It's just a word I like," she fibbed.

"Fine, we can use that," he said. He closed his suitcase, placed it on the floor, and tackled her to the bed and said, "Over my dead body! Just a word you like, indeed! You're the liar, Mrs. Malfoy!" He tickled her and she hit his hands away. He pressed his body on hers and kissed her neck, and then bit down, hard, on her earlobe.

"Brute," she said, hitting him away and sitting up.

"Witch," he said.

"I am a witch, so that's not a derogatory thing to me, you know." She closed her suitcase.

"I wasn't trying to offend. Were you trying to offend me when you called me 'brute'? I thought that was a nice thing. You usually question my manhood," he said. He picked up both their bags and pointed toward the door with his head. "Shall we go down and say goodbye?"

Lucius and Narcissa were waiting for them in the drawing room. Draco set their bags by the door, and took Hermione's hand. They walked in the room and Draco said, "Well, we will be leaving shortly."

"Yes, off to the Burrow, correct?" Lucius said, with a look of distaste on his handsome features.

"Yes, Sir," Draco said.

"Sunday dinners at the Burrow are a sort of tradition for me, Sir," Hermione said, as she came to sit down on the loveseat. Draco sat next to her.

"We must start our own traditions," Lucius said. "I think Friday night dinners, every other Friday, here at the Manor, would suffice." It wasn't an invitation, as much as it was an order. Draco saw Hermione straighten up, and he took her hand.

"That would be fine, Sir, I'm sure," Draco said. He squeezed her hand. If she squeezed back, he would know to amend his statement. Her hand stayed relaxed.

"When will you two move in?" Narcissa asked with an accommodating smile.

Hermione squeezed his hand hard.

"Mother, we're still newlyweds and we really like living in the cottage at the moment. It's a sweet little house, with rosebushes all around. It has two bedrooms, and it's comfortable. We'll stay there for a while," Draco said.

"We love what you did with the wing however, and when we come for weekends, we'll love to stay there," Hermione amended.

Narcissa looked hurt. She looked over at her husband. She said, "It's not for weekend stays. It was meant for you to live in. That was our understanding, at least."

Lucius stood up and walked up to the pair. "It's private. Newlyweds or not, there is no way a little two bedroom cottage is a nicer home than a wing of the Manor," he commented.

Hermione stood, practically nose to nose with the former Death Eater and said, "The cottage is my home, and now Draco's. It's where we live now. It may not be as large and grand as the Manor, which I do agree is a beautiful place, but I've lived there for four years, and I love it there." She wanted to add a 'so there!', but she realized that would be rude.

He smiled. He said, "Draco, you shall have to learn to stand up to this one. She is quite formidable. I like that in a woman." He sat back down. So did Hermione. Thank goodness, he didn't see her sweaty palms and knocking knees. Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's refuted right hand man, thought she was formidable.

"I have decided to quit my job," Draco said unexpectedly. Both his parents smiled. Hermione thought that was strange. Normally parents frowned on such an announcement.

"Thank goodness, Draco," Narcissa said, "that job was dangerous, and so beneath you."

"Will you be joining me in our family business?" Lucius asked. Hermione wondered what their 'family business' was, now that he was no longer a Death Eater.

"No, I'm going to take my turn at the pen. Try writing for a while. I think I will do well at it." He smiled.

Hermione didn't really think he wanted to do that, but if he just announced it to his parents, he must have wanted it. She turned to him and said, "So, you like my idea after all?"

"Oh, no," he said. "I don't want to write the book you suggested. I want to write erotica." Lucius laughed, Narcissa frowned, and Hermione glared. He was being obtuse again. He sighed and said, "Fine, fine, I do want to give your idea a go. Are you happy?"

"Very," she said. She turned to the older Malfoys and said, "I will take a leave from my job as well. We thought we would try collaborating, a story of how we met, with advice and antidotes."

"Sounds splendid," Narcissa said. "You could always come here and work, in your studies. Use it as your place of employment."

"That's a great idea, Mother," Draco said with a smile. He looked at his watch and said, "We really need to go." He stood back up, shook his father's hand, hugged his mother, and moved toward the hallway. Hermione stayed in front of the loveseat. Narcissa walked over to her, hugged her, and followed Draco.

Lucius and she were alone. Why did that thought fill her with dread? She looked around him toward the opened doors, and wondered if it would look suspicious if she ran around the man and dashed out the doors. She was about to do just that when he held out his hand.

She looked at his hand, and then at his face, and then to his hand again. She put her small hand in his large one. He shook it twice and then to her shock and surprise he pulled her to him and hugged her. While in his embrace he said, "You are good for my son." She stepped away from him, but he kept her hand. "He has lived a pampered and somewhat sheltered life. He was spoiled, but we tried to raise him with manners. You keep him in line, and in check, and I can tell he loves you very much. I was not happy about this, two weeks ago when he came to tell us you were to marry. In fact, I was more than unhappy, I was livid at first." He still had her hand. Draco came back to the doorway, with his mother, to see where his wife was, and heard his father speaking to her.

"You see, Hermione, he told us that he was marrying you, and we could either accept it, or lose our son forever. I contemplated restraining him with magic. I threatened to disown him, disinherit him. His mother reminded him of his duty to his heritage. He didn't care. He picked you over us, and in the end, that is the way it should be. I know he doesn't regret a thing, and now that it has all occurred, neither do I."

He continued, his grasp on her hand slacking, but still present. "You see, I have made so many mistakes in my life, all in the name of honour, family, and blood. I never wanted that life for my son, however. I wanted him to have the life he wanted, free from the harsh realities that were presented to me. I got my wish. You two are an unlikely pair, however, that doesn't mean it is not the way it is suppose to be. I will try hard to gain your trust and respect. I know that up until now, everything you have ever known of me would refute both of those. I will work hard to make sure you will be proud to call me Father."

Hermione was breathing hard. She only saw sincerity in the man. She would let him prove himself to her. She would at least do that. She nodded slightly, withdrew her hand from his, and put her arms lightly around his waist. She put her head on his arm, and looked over at the door, to her husband, and his mother, who were embracing and watching.

Lucius patted her back. They parted and Draco said, "If the love fest is over, we really need to leave."

Hermione walked over to her husband and took his hand. They both said goodbye again, and Draco apparated them away.

They landed on the hillside outside of the Burrow. Draco looked down at Hermione and said, "It feels like we're home."

She smiled. She suggested they put their bags by a tree nearby. He did that and they walked toward the back door. They could hear people talking within, and could see that a large table was already set up outside. She said, "Let's take a little walk before we show ourselves."

They walked around the side of the house, toward the hill near where they played Quidditch. Sure enough, a pick up game was ensuing. Hermione looked upward, her hand over her eyes to block the sun. She saw Harry. He waved down at her. She tried to make out the others. She looked at Draco and said, "Don't be upset, but I think I see Oliver up there."

"Don't you be upset, but I think I see Ron," he said back. He pointed and she followed the line of his hand, narrowed her gaze, and squinted. It was Ron. She looked back toward Draco. "Do you want to leave?" he asked.

She didn't know. She really didn't know.

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	29. Chapter 29

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**Chapter 29 -**

Draco pointed up to a man on a broom in the sky and said, "Don't you be upset, but I think I see Ron." Hermione narrowed her gaze and followed his pointed finger to the man in question. "Do you want to leave?" Draco asked.

Damn! It was RON! She was not at all in the mood for Ron Weasley. Damn. She turned to Draco and said, "I don't think I can face Ron and Pansy."

"I really rather doubt Pansy is here," Draco surmised. Harry lowered his broom, and came to a halt several yards from them. He put his broom on the ground and threw his arms around Hermione, twirling her twice.

"How is married life?" he asked.

"Good, good, is that Ron up there?" she asked, distracted.

He temporarily ignored her and shook Draco's hand. "How are you, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Hermione broke through their clasped hands, held Harry's hand in hers, and said, "Enough niceties, is that Ron?"

"Yes, Hermione, this is his parent's house, after all," Harry said.

"Draco, I can't face Ron and Pansy," she repeated. Draco frowned.

"I told you I doubt Pansy would show her face here," Draco said.

"No, Pansy's here, why wouldn't she be?" Harry asked. Draco looked at him incredulously.

"Well, considering their marriage is a sham, and she tricked him into marriage, I rather thought she wouldn't have the nerve to show her face at Sunday dinner," Draco said with sarcasm.

"What is going on here? What do you two know that I don't?" Harry asked. Draco held up his hands in defeat and shook his head. Harry turned to Hermione and said, "You are married to Malfoy and happy now, so I see no reason why you should have difficulties facing Ron and Pansy, so what happened? Why did Malfoy just call their marriage a farce?"

She looked over at Draco and he said, "Old Lightning Bolt is your friend. You explain the dirty little secret." He walked over to Harry's broom, and flew up in the air.

"Oh, Harry, it's not my place to say anything, and it's not Ron alone that I can't face, but if Pansy is here as well, which I can't believe, then Draco and I just can't stay. Apparently Ron has decided to forgive his wife, and give his marriage a go, and I can't fault him for that, but if you knew what I knew, you would definitely question his sanity," she explained.

"You're telling me nothing, Hermione! Start talking." Harry took her by her arm and walked her farther away from prying eyes. "Tell me what you know."

"Lucius and Narcissa had a wedding party for us last night," she said, "and Ron was there."

"Why was Ron invited, and not I?" he asked.

"Ron wasn't invited," she said, hitting his forehead with her hand, "and I didn't have guest list approval, so that's why you weren't invited. Anyway, they just showed up, and while out on the patio with Draco, Pansy made a startling revelation."

"What?"

"Well, Draco and Pansy had sexual relations just a week before Pansy and Ron's wedding," she said.

"Wait, Pansy took Draco to the patio, at your party, and told him that she and he had sex a week before her marriage? What, didn't he remember or something?"

"Harry Potter, try to at least act as if you're somewhat intelligent!" she chastised.

"Well, tell me something that makes sense or shut up!" he said.

She sucked in a mouthful of air and said, "Don't you ever tell me to shut up!" She hit his arm with an opened hand.

"Well, don't call me stupid!" He hit her shoulder with an opened hand.

"OUCH! That hurt, you arse, and I didn't call you stupid, I implied it!" She hit his shoulder with a closed fist.

"That hurt as well, Hermione, and you told me to at least act intelligent, and in my book, that's calling me stupid!" He took both her hands in his and squeezed hard. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes.

"Ouch, Harry, I had a very bad injury to my left hand this weekend," she said, with actual tears running down her face. "Didn't you see the bandage?"

"I am so sorry, Hermione! I just didn't want to hit you again, so I squeezed your hands," he said, turning her injured hand over in his.

"And why did you do that, to make them fall off?" she asked, removing her hand from his.

"Let me see your hand," he begged.

"Why, so you can inflict more pain to me?" she asked. Tears continued to run down her face.

"I really am sorry," he said. He held her hand gently. It was still wrapped. He pulled her into an embrace and said, "How did you hurt your hand?"

"I cut it with a knife, and I had to go to St. Mungo's, and there's possible tendon damage, and it became infected, and I had a fever, and oh, yeah, they found out in the course of it all that I have type one diabetes and I will be on insulin the rest of my life." She looked up at him and added, "I hope you feel really horrible for hurting your dearest friend now, you stupid Scarhead."

Harry laughed and said, "Malfoy is not a good influence on you." He kissed her hand and said, "Type one diabetes? Really? I am so sorry about that, Hermione."

"Me, too," she said sadly. He kept her in his embrace and rocked her back and forth in his arms.

Draco landed the broom near the friends and said, "So I take it Hermione told you that Pansy and I slept together five days before their wedding."

Harry said, "She said a week, but yeah, she told me."

Before Harry could add the rest of his sentence, (which would have been, 'but she didn't tell me anything else',) Draco said, "In addition, I suppose she told you that Pansy only started dating Ron in the beginning to hurt her, because she knew I had feelings for Hermione for a while. She wanted to hurt Hermione, and make me jealous with Weasel, and it all backfired. She ended up marrying the Weasel, even though she claims she still loved me, and she wanted to keep an affair with me even though they were married, and Ron heard the whole thing and was devastated, right?"

Harry and Hermione both looked at Draco. Harry's mouth was agape. Hermione said, "I hadn't got around to telling him yet, but thank you, sweetheart, now I don't have to."

"But he's comforting you, being all lovey dovey, and sickening, so I thought you told him," Draco said with disdain.

Harry still stood with his mouth open.

"He's comforting me and apologizing to me because he hit me with his fist and then squeezed my injured hand and made me cry," Hermione explained.

"WHAT?" Draco said. Draco pulled back his hand and hit Harry Potter square on the jaw. Harry fell down flat. Everyone on his or her brooms raced down to see what was going on, including Ron. Pansy was running up the hill, as well. Harry remained on the ground, his hand on his jaw, his mouth still slightly opened, in shock.

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Everyone started yelling at once. Ginny demanded to know why Draco hit her husband. Oliver wanted to know what Harry had done to make Hermione cry. George was laughing at the whole thing. Ron asked Draco and Hermione what they were doing there. Pansy was yelling at Hermione and told her she was no longer welcomed at the Burrow. Bill was yelling at Pansy, telling her it wasn't up to her who came to the Burrow. And what was Harry Potter doing during all of this? Well, Harry Potter remained sitting on the ground, not saying a word, still in total, unabashed, and complete, utter, shock.

Finally, Harry stood up and yelled, "EVERYONE SHUT UP!"

He looked at Draco and said, "I deserved that, so you get that one free, but if you ever hit me again, you might leave Hermione a very rich widow." He turned to Hermione and said, "I am so sorry I hurt you, so that's why Draco gets this free pass at hitting me." He turned to George and said, "Stop laughing you arse." He turned to Ron and said, "You and I, we need to talk now," and lastly he turned to Pansy and said, "I don't care if you are a woman, if you say one more thing to Hermione Granger I will knock you on your arse so fast you won't know what hit you!" He took Ron by the collar, and led him to the house. Pansy watched them go, stomped her foot, and ran after them.

Now, it had been years since Harry lost control like that. It wasn't a common occurrence, and because it wasn't a common occurrence, no one quite knew what to make of it. Everyone milled around, looked at each other, and didn't know what to say. Finally, Bill said, "What did you do to your hand, Hermione?"

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	30. Chapter 30

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**Chapter 30 - **

Everyone sat on the hillside, listening to Hermione's story about her hand. "And he really fainted?" Ginny laughed.

"Yes, little red, I really fainted," Draco said.

"So what's up with Ron and Pansy?" Oliver finally asked.

That was what everyone really wanted to know, but was afraid to ask. Percy came walking up the hill and said, "I think I can explain."

Percy sat down next to Hermione and held her good hand. He didn't even question her about the other. "Ron came to visit me this morning. He asked me to pull some strings, and see about getting his marriage annulled. He and Pansy came here together today to tell everyone."

"Why are they getting their marriage annulled?" Bill asked.

"Because Pansy misrepresented herself, well, basically lied, so their marriage is a lie. He didn't want to go to the trouble of a divorce, so he wanted to know if he had grounds, legally, to seek an annulment, and he wanted me to pull some strings at the Ministry." He kissed Hermione's hand, looked at his family, and said, "And he does have grounds, so I did pull some strings, and his annulment should be legal by the end of the week."

"Why?" Charlie asked. Percy shrugged. "Hermione, please, tell us what you know," Charlie continued.

"May I please tell the story, Granger? You'll mess it up, and someone will probably hit you again like Potter did," Draco said.

"Did Harry really hit you?" Ginny asked. "Because if he really did, Draco was completely justified in hitting him back, but I can't believe that!"

"People, we're getting woefully off track again!" Draco said. "Who really cares if Potter struck my wife? There's a real story that begs to be told!" He stood up and said, "Now, let me weave you a tale of horror, mystery, and sex! It all started many months ago. There was a beautiful girl named Hermione, and a boy named Weasel, and they were happy and blissful, or were they?" He started walking around the circle of people, and Hermione was laughing, and everyone else was captivated.

"Weasel had a secret. A dirty little secret. He had started a lewd and lascivious affair with a certain pug face women we shall call, what?" He pointed to George.

"I think Pansy is a good name," George said with a smile.

"Yes, Pansy it is," Draco said. "But why would this pug face woman take up with a Weasel in the first place? Could it be, for revenge? For fun? For jealousy? Bill?" He pointed to Bill.

He laughed and said, "Probably all of the above, Malfoy."

"CORRECT!" Draco clapped his hands together. "It would seem a certain Pug found out that her incredibly sexy lover, who we shall call, what?" He pointed to Oliver.

"Ferret face?" Oliver said.

Everyone laughed. Draco held up two obscene fingers to Oliver and said, "No, his name shall be Draco, you Scottish, blowhard bagpipe!" Draco sat back down and said, "So she loved me, I didn't even really like her, I only slept with her, because I already had a slight, infinitesimal, small, little, crush on my dear wifey-poo, who was merely an acquaintance at the time, and Pansy became jealous, and wanted to hurt Hermione, even though Hermione had no clue she was at the center of all of this." He took a deep breath, to finish off his long sentence.

Hermione shrugged and said, "He's right. I should be called 'No Clue Granger'."

Draco continued his tale. "So she wanted to break up Ron and Hermione, to hurt Hermione, and also because she was under the false illusion that I would become jealous, and come to my senses, and beg her to be mine, yuck!"

Ginny said, "So she never loved Ron?"

"Nope!"

"Then what happened, Uncle Draco?" George asked with a laugh.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing that happened," Percy answered in Draco's place. "Pansy sealed her own fate. An engagement is a formal contract, at least in the Wizarding world. She slept with Prince Charming over there, five days before her wedding to Ron; therefore, she broke her engagement contract, and sealed her own fate, not to mention that she told Draco that she wanted to keep up an affair with him after her marriage, which Ron overheard."

There was an audible gasp from his friends and family. "Poor Ron! I hate Pansy," Ginny said. "He should have just married Hermione."

"Hey!" Draco said. He put his arm around Hermione and said, "Let's not talk nonsense now!"

"Seriously," Ginny said, now standing. "Poor RON! I am going to kill that bitch Pansy!" She ran down the hill, with her brothers and Draco following. Her brothers ran to stop her. Draco ran to watch.

Oliver Wood and Hermione Granger stayed on the hillside. Oliver turned to Hermione and said, "Never a dull moment in this family, aye lass?"

"You're telling me, Oliver," she agreed with a lilting laugh.

"So, are you really happy with Malfoy?" Oliver asked her.

"I am blissfully happy to the extreme, Oliver. I had no idea I could love someone so much, and that he could love me. He irritates me a lot, but besides that, I really love him more than I would ever imagine," she said with a smile.

He took her hand, held it, and said, "I couldn't be happier for you, and don't tell the crazy ginger haired clan I said this, but Ron was never good enough for you. Anyone who thought so was a blooming idiot." He kissed her hand and said, "Shall we go see who is left standin'? My money's on Ginny, for she scares me sometimes."

Oliver stood, and offered Hermione his hand. She stood up and walked with him down to the house, her hand in the crook of his arm, to see who was left, 'standin' as he so eloquently stated. When they arrived, the entire family, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, was on the front porch. Inside the house, Ron and Pansy were arguing, loudly. Hermione leaned over to Draco and said, "Where's Harry?"

"Inside, in case things get ugly, which I frankly think they already are," Draco whispered back.

"Yes, it's an ugly situation," Hermione agreed.

"I meant the participants," Draco said back. Hermione hit his arm. "Hey, I'm no better than Potter. You hit me, I might hit back."

They heard a loud crash, followed by Pansy yelling, "I SAID I WAS SORRY! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"

"THE TRUTH!" Ron shouted back.

"Why don't we all go around back," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Yeah, I bet we could actually see what's happening through the kitchen window," George said. George, Charlie, Fleur and Ginny all ran around back.

Harry came out the front door, and said, "I cast a silencing charm, so they could have their privacy."

"Do you think you should have left them alone?" Bill asked.

"I took their wands," Harry said. "After that, whatever happens, happens." He walked over to Hermione and said, "Are you and I okay?"

"Yes," she said, with a sad smile.

"Do you forgive me for hitting you?" he asked.

"You hit her?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Well, not hard, but I squeezed her hurt hand really hard and made her cry," Harry said.

"Well, I hit you too, and I more or less called you stupid," she said.

"And you called me Scarhead," Harry laughed.

Draco frowned and said, "That's my nickname for him, get your own, Granger."

Ron came walking out of the house. "Pansy wants to disapparated from inside the house, will someone take her wand to her?" he asked. Percy took her wand from Harry and took it inside. "Mum, Dad, I don't feel like company right now. I want to go home. Don't worry about me I'll be fine. I just need some time alone. I'm sorry about all of this."

His mother smiled and patted his cheek. "There, there, Ronald. I will have one of your brothers bring you a nice plate of food later."

"Not George, okay?" he asked. "Bye everyone, thanks Harry, thanks Percy." He walked off the porch and turned around and said, "Sorry Hermione and Draco. I hope we didn't ruin your party last night."

"No, Marcus Flint did that," Draco said.

Ginny and the rest had just come back around the corner of the house, and she said, "How did Marcus Flint ruin your party?"

"Gather round, children, and I will tell you a tale of intrigue, lies, and possible attempted murder," Draco began.

"Lord, he's handful," Hermione said. She walked inside with the elder Weasleys. She turned to Harry and said, "Coming Harry?"

"I kind of want to hear the story, Hermione," Harry laughed.

She shook her head, and left them all out on the porch. She shut the front door. She didn't need to hear the story. She had already lived it.

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	31. Chapter 31

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**Chapter 31- **

Draco walked in as Hermione was slicing cantaloupe. He came up to her and said, "Give me the knife, and no one gets hurt." She turned and laughed. "I'm serious, Granger."

"Mrs. Weasley needed help," Hermione begged.

"Does she know that you're an accident waiting to happen?" he asked.

"A what? Anyway, I cut my hand because of you, and because you distracted me, which you're doing again, by the way," she said.

"Mrs. Weasley," Draco said to the older woman, "do you have anything else Hermione can do? She hurt her hand very badly at her parents' house yesterday, and I don't want her to hurt it again."

Hermione turned around and stared at him. How dare he say she wasn't capable! Well, actually, it was somewhat sweet. "Oh, my, yes dear, she can set the table. I will have Ginny finish the fruit." Mrs. Weasley came up to Hermione and took the rather large knife from her. "You should have told me dear," she said. She went up, patted Draco's cheek, and said, "Good thing she has you to look after her, Draco."

Hermione went to the cupboard and started to count out plates. "Let's see, how many plates do we need? Draco, come help me." Draco walked up to the cupboard, and Hermione began to place mismatched plates, different colours, and sizes, into his waiting arms. "Okay, Harry, Ginny, You and I. That's four. The Elder Weasleys, Charlie, George, and Percy, that's nine. Bill's family, three more, so that's twelve. No Ron or Pug, so with Oliver," she placed one more plate on the top of the pile, "that's unlucky thirteen. Take them out to the table outside, and I'll get the flatware and napkins."

"Oliver freaking Wood is eating here today?" he asked.

"Hush," she said.

"Does he eat here every Sunday, because if he does, I don't know if I can eat here every Sunday," Draco said seriously.

"He hardly ever comes," Hermione said.

They went to the silverware drawer and Draco said, "Then why was he here two weekends ago and again this weekend?"

"I don't know, Malfoy, ask him," she answered, perturbed.

He headed toward the back door, kicked the screen door open, and sulked out to the picnic tables. He started throwing the plates on the tables, as if he were shuffling a deck of cards. One plate slid off when Hermione came outside. "Please be careful, Malfoy." She placed the silverware down, and bent down and picked up the plate. She wiped it off and said, "This dirty one can be yours."

"I've never seen this many plates that don't match. I don't think there are two alike." Draco said, as he finished setting the plates. Hermione began to set the silverware, and handed him the napkins.

"I think it's quaint and charming. Very homey."

"Homely?" he asked.

She had to laugh, because he was not making a joke this time. "I said, homey," she clarified. "Besides, don't say disparaging remarks like that. I know you don't mean anything by it, but some people might think you're being a snob."

"I am being a snob," he said, sitting down on the picnic bench, and throwing the napkins around the table. "That's my third best quality, no, fourth, next to my hair, my looks, and my lying ability." He finished with the napkins. "I think I will get them new dishes for Christmas. I won't bother with china or anything, but something nice."

She gave him a funny look, and honestly didn't know how to respond. She finally shrugged. She started past him and he pulled her down on his lap. "Where are you going?"

"We need glasses," she said.

"Are you going to be my date for supper?" he asked, nibbling her neck. She squealed. It felt heavenly.

"I don't know, what does a date with you entail? I've never been on a date with you, not a real one, a proper one," she declared. She placed both hands on his face, to make him look at her. He thought for a moment.

"Isn't that sad?" he said. "You really haven't, and believe me, I'm a good date. I show the girl a really good time. Flowers, candy, romantic flowers and music. You've really missed out, my dear," he said. He kissed her jaw line, to her neck, to her collarbone.

"That's okay, as good of a date that I'm sure you are, you are even a better husband, and I get you all to myself as my husband every single day," she said. She wrapped her arms around him and said in his ear, "I'm very lucky." She kissed his cheek.

He held her close, his hands on her back, and he said, "That's one of the sweetest things you've ever said to me. Let's go on a date, tomorrow night, okay?"

"It's a date, and so is supper. I would be pleased to have a date with you today," she said.

"Do you sleep on the first date?" he asked.

"You asked me that our first weekend here," she recalled.

"Yes, and you slept with me that weekend, and apparently, we didn't even really have a date. So, of course you're going to sleep with me tomorrow night after our date, why did I doubt it?" he said.

"I think I've change my mind," she said, scooting off his lap. "I'll see if Oliver will be my date for supper." She ran in the house, just as he reached out to grab her again.

"You are my date, Granger!" he yelled. "NOT Oliver 'The Tartan King' Wood's date!"

Oliver walked up to him and smile. He patted Draco's arm and said, "You're so thickheaded, Malfoy. The lass is in love with you. Stupid man, you're so undeserving, but then again, aren't we all." He started to walk to the side of the house and turned back to Malfoy and said, "Last one to the Quidditch pitch for a pickup game has to give Harry Potter a kiss on the lips."

Draco and Oliver took off with a dash.

Hermione and Harry watched from the kitchen window and Harry said, "I don't care who comes in last, I won't kiss either of them."

Hermione put her arm around him. "Aren't you going to go play?"

"I want to talk a bit, first," he said. "Let's go upstairs. I want to hear about this diabetes thing." He took her good hand and led her upstairs.

They walked to Ginny's old room, and sat down on the bed together, their backs against the headboard, they legs out in front of them. She told him about her symptoms, her suspicions, and then about the diagnosis. She told him about her medication, and all that it entailed.

After she was done, she said, "I really don't want to talk to anyone else about it right now, so could you wait and tell Ginny about it tonight after we leave? I know Ginny will make sure everyone else knows."

Harry laughed and said, "That woman loves gossip, I do have to say."

"Now, you tell me, what happened in here with Ron and Pansy, before Pansy left?" Hermione inquired.

"Hmm," he said, thinking. "I don't think I should betray their confidence, but Pansy wants to make it work. She said she does care for him. He still wants to get the annulment, even though he claims to love her. He suggested they go ahead and get the marriage annulled, and perhaps they could date a while, this time, without him hiding it, like he had to the last time, since he was with you. And on her part, she won't have ulterior motives this time, no trying to make Malfoy jealous."

"Is Ron really going to start dating Pansy?" she asked.

"That sounds odd, doesn't it? He doesn't want anyone to know yet, in case it doesn't work out, and also, because everyone will be so against it, so don't even tell Draco. I promised not to tell Ginny, even," Harry said.

"How strange, Malfoy and I are going to start dating as well," she said and then laughed. She told him about their upcoming date.

"You did everything backwards, and yet, your marriage is more sound than Ron's was, and that's sad, for Ron that is," Harry said. "Are you going back to work?"

"Not yet. I told Dr. Carlisle that I wanted to take an extended leave, and he was all for it. Draco and I need to get to know each other, and I need to wrap my head around this whole illness thing. I think Draco is going to quit his job, by the way," Hermione explained.

"Well, bloody hell, I'm his boss, was he going to tell me?" Harry asked, "Or is he making his wife quit for him?"

"I'm just telling you unofficially. He'll eventually tell you officially, probably," she said. "It's not like he needs the money. I want us to write a book." Harry started to laugh. "Don't laugh, Potter!" she said, though she laughed, too.

"What is your book going to be, a cookbook? How to make a salad and kiss at the same time without cutting your hand? Or maybe a children's book, but then again, that might be a bit advance for Malfoy." He continued to laugh.

"An advice book, on dating and marriage," she said, with a smile.

"Because you're both the experts," he said sarcastically.

Hermione got up on her knees on the bed, grabbed the pillow, and tried to put it over Harry's head. She knocked him down on the bed, and continued to smother him, when she said, "We can write any book we want to!"

He didn't even fight her. He laid still. Hermione removed the pillow slowly and said, "Did you die?"

Bill walked in the room as Hermione lifted the pillow from Harry's face, and as she said the words, "Did you die." Harry played dead, eyes closed, no movement. Bill was amused. He asked, "Did you kill Harry?"

"I might have," she joked. She felt his pulse. Of course, he had one, but she said, "No pulse."

"So, Voldemort tried for what, eighteen years, to kill the man, and you do it with a pillow?" Bill asked with a laugh.

She plopped on the bed beside the 'dead Harry' and held up his arm, and dropped it on the bed, where it landed with a thud. "It was surprisingly easy, too. Voldemort must have been a little sissy." She straddled Harry's body and put her nose on his. "Harry Potter, if you hear me, open your eyes."

Bill leaned down as well. Ginny walked in and said, "What's going on in here?"

Bill looked up at his sister and said, "Hermione killed your husband."

"Oh well, he had to go sometime, and I get everything, so that's okay. Do you want to play some Quidditch before dinner, Bill? It's no fun with just Draco, Oliver, George and I. I'll find Charlie and since Harry's dead, I thought you might want to play."

"Sure," her eldest brother said. They both walked out the room.

Hermione was still sitting on Harry's body. She moved her leg and sat beside him. She said, "It's sort of sad that no one cares that you died, Harry. I feel bad for you." She leaned down on her side, and put her head on his chest. He put his hand on her back.

"Would you cry if I died?" he asked.

"Probably," she said.

"I would cry if you died, too," he said.

"Good to know," she said.

Draco walked in the room and said, "Potter, we need a sixth person for Quidditch, and Charlie doesn't want to play. What are you two doing on the bed, cuddling, and being all close and sickening?" He walked up to the bed.

"I tried to kill Harry with a pillow a few minutes ago, and none of the Weasleys cared, not even his own wife, and then we were talking about how we would be sad if we died. I mean, I would be sad if he died, and he would be sad if I died," she explained.

Draco frowned. "Well, I would be sad, too."

"You would be sad if I died, Malfoy?" Harry asked with his arms still around Hermione, and a large smile on his face.

"Right, that's what I meant, Scarhead. Now, are you playing or not?" Draco asked.

"I'm spending time with my best friend, Malfoy," he said.

"Go play, Harry," Hermione said, sitting up. She tried to push him off the bed.

Harry sat up as well and said, "You're very weak. How did you kill me earlier?"

"Go play!" she insisted again, ignoring the 'weak' comment.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, go play," she insisted again.

Charlie peeked his head in the door and said, "I guess I'll play, Malfoy." He ran down the stairs.

"Now we have too many," Draco said.

"I'll sit out, I really would rather be with Hermione," Harry said. He held her hand. Draco looked over at them. He didn't feel jealous, and he was surprised. Ginny had warned him last weekend that they were like this with each other, and Draco couldn't understand how the girl Potter wasn't jealous all the time, and now he knew, because he wasn't jealous. Actually, he was slightly jealous, but not because he feared they were romantically involved, but because they were such good friends. He wished he had that close of a friend.

"Go play, Potter. I'll be with Hermione," he said, pulling on the other man's arm, to make him stand. He then pulled on Hermione's arm and said, "Let's go watch them, okay?"

She put her hand in his, and they both followed Harry down the stairs. Something just dawned on Draco. He needn't be jealous of the fact that Harry and Hermione had such a close friendship, and he needn't be envious, pining away for his own best friend, because he had that. He had the exact same thing, also with Hermione. She wasn't only his wife, and his lover, but his best friend. He had never really had a best friend before. They started walking up the hill, and Draco stopped her for a moment. He held both her hands gingerly and said, "You're my best friend, Hermione, and you know what that makes me? That makes me truly the lucky one in this relationship."

"Now that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me," she claimed, just as he made that claim to her earlier. She put her hand on his face, stroked it lightly, and kissed his mouth. "Let's go watch the game, friend."

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	32. Chapter 32

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**Chapter 32**** –**

"Let's go watch the game, friend," Draco said back to his wife. He helped her sit down, and he sat beside her. He said, "This seems familiar."

"It is the exact thing we did two weeks ago," she said. Suddenly, she grabbed his arm, and then she pushed him. He was shocked. "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy!" she said. She stood up and started jumping up and down. "We were married exactly two weeks ago, right now, this moment!" He looked at his watch. It was 1:45 pm.

"Huh, you don't say," he said calmly. He began to watch the game.

"Malfoy! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" she asked.

"It means we've been married fourteen days. We knew this day would come," he said without emotion. "Everything could mean something if you let it," he said with a shrug. "We didn't celebrate our first kiss, the first time we made love, or any other such trivial thing, so why is this so important?" His eyes went back to the game.

He had a point, but still…she expected him to be a little bit more worked up over the fact that it was their two-week wedding anniversary. He was usually mad for the mushy sentiments. She sat back down, but looked away, instead of toward the game.

He felt remorse. He was joking. He thought it was pretty damn terrific as well, but as he began his little ruse, and he saw the hurt on her face, he didn't know how to say, 'ah, just joking, darling'. Why did he constantly screw things up? How would he fix it now? If he said, "I'm sorry," she wouldn't think he was sincere. That was also the reason he couldn't tell her he was joking. He looked over at her, and she was lying on the ground, on her side, picking blades of grass with her good hand. He leaned over her body, and kissed her shoulder.

"Guess what, Granger," he asked.

"Granger Malfoy, no hyphen, actually," she corrected without looking at him.

"Sorry, but that's simply too long to say. I could call you GM, for Granger Malfoy, or we could use my father nickname for you, No Hyphen."

"Shut up, Draco," she said. "I'm watching the game."

"The game is up in the sky, not down on the ground by your body, and please, don't tell me to shut up. I was going to say, guess what? It's our two week anniversary," he said.

"So?" she said. She turned to her back, and closed her eyes. He leaned over her body, his face facing hers, his arm across her body, holding him upright. His free hand went to outline the features of her pretty face.

He kissed her right eye, since it was still closed and said, "I think that's pretty important, don't you? I thought it was, anyway; I was just playing the clown earlier." He leaned down and kissed her left eye. "Do you love me?" He kissed her forehead.

"A little bit," she said. He kissed her mouth, a quick, simple, kiss.

"Do you think I'm sexy?" he asked. His tongue came out and rimmed her lips. He kept his mouth hovering above hers.

"Not at all," she lied.

His mouth traveled over her cheeks, to her jaw, to her neck, as he said, barely above a whisper, "I love you and I think you are very sexy." Each word played with her skin, each syllable like a little kiss against her nerve endings. She was losing the battle against him very quickly. He reached down with his free hand and unbuttoned the first three buttons of her blouse, to reveal her lacey white brassiere. He said, "If your pulse stays slow and steady, I will know you don't return my feelings. If it's rapid and irregular, you love me, too." He put his fingertips lightly on her neck, as the weight of his body fell down on her. He leaned over her, pressing his entire body on hers, and his other hand went to one of her shirt-covered breasts, and cupped it, as his thumb went back and forth over the tip. His lips went from the hollow of her throat, to her collarbone, down to the swell between her breasts. He licked his way back up, and then kissed his way back down for the second time. His hand went from her breast, to part her shirt a bit more.

She felt exposed. Anyone up there on their brooms would be able to see them, yet she didn't care. She kept her eyes closed, and tried to steady her pulse and her breathing. She didn't do these things to try to convince him that she didn't return his feelings; after all, he knew she did. She did these things to try to keep her sanity. As his fingers undid two more buttons, and her shirt came mostly undone, he moved the lace from one breast, kissed the top of it, and then pulled the lace down, to kiss her nipple.

The hand on her pulse pressed down harder. Damn, her body was betraying her, once again. He kissed his way back up to her face, and put his lips on hers. He could keep them there an eternity, and that wouldn't be long enough. He finally brought his face up to look at hers, and she opened her eyes.

"Fine, I love you and think you're sexy," she said. "Now, make love to me."

Draco apparated them to the twins old room. She looked up from her place under him, on top of one of the small beds, and said, "Why here?"

"It's the first place we made love," he said. He cast a silencing and a locking charm on the door, and then said, "Shall we commence with the show?"

She giggled and said, "By all means. Kiss away!"

Draco pulled her face up to his, and kissed her lips with the passion a lifetime. "I don't know how I lived so long without you," he said sweetly. He kissed her again. She brought her arms up to his neck, and held him tight. He put his arms around her and turned her over so she was on top of him. She finished unbuttoning the last button of her blouse and threw it on the floor. She leaned over him and kissed his mouth with want and desire.

He removed his shirt, first the top one, and then the t-shirt, with her assistance. He pulled her back to him, and kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, and the valley between her breasts. He turned her back around, so she was on her back. He pulled her bra down her arms, and she unclasped it and it too found the floor. Soon, all their clothing was in a pile by the bed. He sat up on his knees and kissed her stomach. His hands were on her hips, and he moved his mouth down to her creamy white thighs, and her knee. He lifted one of her leg, and she put her hands on his shoulders.

He kissed his way up the inside of one of her thighs, and he placed small kisses on her pelvic bone, and down her hip. He turned her slightly, kissing her hips, thighs, and back as he slowly turned her around. With her back facing him, and his hands roaming her legs, he kissed the dimples above her beautiful, rounded bum. He put his face on her back and said, "Are you really mine?" It was a rhetorical question, in need of no answer, because the response of her body was his answer. She turned to face him again, and set her hand on his face.

She could feel his hard length against her lower abdomen, and he leaned his cheek against hers, kissing her shoulder again. One hand went to her left breast cupping it lightly. The same hand traveled down her stomach, to the inside of her thighs. He placed that hand on top of her, and fondled her as he continued to kiss her mouth.

She was moaning slightly, as his hand continued to stroke her. He rubbed his thumb at her entrance, and his middle finger entered her. "Draco Malfoy," she said, breathlessly.

He looked at the poised woman beside him. He already had every dimple, freckle and mole memorized and stored in his mind, for future reference. He could see her clearly, even when he shut his eyes. Sometime he would try to picture her even when they were in separate rooms, and he always knew exactly what she looked like. She was embedded in his brain, and branded on his heart. He moved over her slightly and kissed her mouth again, opening it with his, and exploring it with his tongue. His right hand went down her side, knuckle side against her skin, skimming lightly over the side of her breasts, her stomach, her hips, and her thigh. He grabbed her knee again and brought it up his hip. He shifted again, so he might enter her.

He gently guided himself inside her, his hands on her cheeks, his elbows holding his upper body from hers, and he put his mouth to her, and nourished his soul with her love.

When she began to quiver, and her legs began to spasm, he quickened his movements. He began to suck on one breast, using his hand to play with the other. She stroked her hands up and down his back. They shared a moment of pure bliss, soon he turned them around, without losing contact, he found himself on his back, and she was sitting astride his legs, with both hands gliding smoothly over his chest. She dipped her head, and kissed his mouth. She was his everything. She kissed him hard, before she found herself sitting back, and grinding her pelvis into his. All too soon, it was over. She collapsed on top of him, and they both shook off the aftermath of their lovemaking. Hermione felt his hands, feathery soft, travel up and down her spine.

He was so spent he could sleep forever. She crawled off him, and sat on the side of the bed. She took her wand and said a quick cleansing spell. She said, "We should dress and go back outside." She started to dress.

He turned to his side, away from her, and said, "I really must sleep; you killed me, just as surely as you killed Potter earlier."

She threw his clothes on the bed after she dressed. "To clarify, I killed Harry with a pillow, not sex, Draco, now come on, it will be time for lunch soon," she warned.

There was a knock on the door. Why was there always a knock on the door? At least this knock came after sex, not before, or during, as usual. He pulled on his shorts and jeans, and when he pulled on his t-shirt, she looked back at him, before opening the door.

"Oliver?" she asked from the doorway. She kept the door mostly closed, so he could not look in and see Malfoy. Draco cursed under his breath, and disapparated out to the hall.

"We all wondered where you went. Mrs. Weasley sent me to look for you," Oliver said. "It is almost time for lunch."

"Thanks, Oliver, I was having a lie down, my hand still hurts," she fibbed.

Suddenly Oliver felt someone tap on his shoulder. "Wood, have you seen my wife?" Draco asked.

Oliver looked from Draco back to Hermione, suspiciously. He said to Draco, "She's in there Malfoy. Where have you been?"

"Bathroom," Draco said.

"I just came from there," Oliver said.

"Other bathroom," Draco lied.

"There's only one," Oliver explained.

"The garden shed," he said.

"Right, Malfoy. You were in the garden shed." Oliver laughed, and said, "Without your shoes." He looked back to Hermione and said, "When you come to your senses, Granger, you know where to find me." He laughed all the way down the stairs.

Draco walked back in the bedroom, and sat down to put on his shoes.

"You apparated without your shoes on your feet?" Hermione asked. She laughed.

"Apparently," he said, not embarrassed in the least.

"How could you forget this place only has one bathroom, when you went on and on about it last weekend. You even mentioned it at my folk's house," Hermione asked.

"How was I supposed to know Wood knew that interesting little fact about this place," Draco said with one shoe already on his foot, the other in his hand.

Hermione sat on the bed and said, "I rather think it's okay if people know we were together. We are married. They just don't have to know what we were doing."

He laughed and said, "Oh yeah." He added, "That was uncalled for, what Wood said to you, right in front of me."

"What did he say?"

"About you coming to your senses," Draco reminded her. He stood up and looked out the window. "Seriously, what is wrong with all these men? First Wood, then Flint, even Pucey! I don't even know why they bother with you! What's the big deal, anyway? It's maddening. I don't know what's wrong with the lot of them."

Hermione stood in the doorway, staring at him. He continued his rant, without a backwards glance to his wife.

"It's not like any of them gave a damn before. It's not as if you're Helen of Troy! Suddenly it's as if they can't get enough of you. No one gave a shite when you were with Ron." He opened the window, to let in some air. Hermione walked out of the room without a word to him, not wanting to hear anymore. He ended with, "Sure, you're gorgeous and all, beautiful even. Nevertheless, you're married, now! I've never seen so many men ogle a married woman before, and right in front of her husband. It's unseemly!" He turned to look at her, but she was already gone. "Granger?" He walked out the door. Where did she go?

Hermione walked past Mrs. Weasley. She said, "Could you take the bread to the table, dear." Hermione ignored her.

She walked past Mr. Weasley holding his granddaughter. The older man said, "Hermione, did you hear Molly?"

She walked out the backdoor, letting the screen door slam shut. Charlie said, "Where did you and Draco go?" She ignored him.

She started to jog. Harry Potter, who was in the kitchen when she walked past everyone, unaware of all, followed her outside, and saw as she started to run. He yelled, "Hermione?" She ignored them all. She ran toward the garden gate, through it, and broke out into a full speed run.

Bill looked at Draco, as he ran out of the house. "Did you all see Hermione?" Draco asked.

Bill pointed in her direction and said, "What's wrong with her?"

"I haven't a clue," he said honestly. He ran after her, but that was when he saw that she disapparated away. It was true; he didn't have a clue as to where she was going, or what in the world was wrong with her. He would find out, though, or his name wasn't Draco Malfoy, no need for a hyphen.

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	33. Chapter 33

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**Chapter 33**** - **

Everyone always thought Hermione Granger was a sensitive person. She never thought it, but everyone else did. Well, maybe she was sensitive. That didn't mean she was overly sensitive, she just felt things more than others did. Hermione was also racked with insecurities. Everyone had insecurities. Hermione just usually kept hers bottled up inside. They very rarely escaped.

Therefore, she was a sensitive person. So what? She usually wasn't concerned about things like her looks, or her intellect. She knew her looks were passable, and her intellect above average. However, she was sensitive, she would admit, when it came to things said by other witches and wizards…things about her blood, her magical ability, and her rights, the things she could not help, and could not change.

She didn't know what her husband meant when he said he didn't understand what all those men saw in her. He could have meant her looks, but she doubted it. They were all purebloods. He probably meant that. Ever since she started Hogwarts, people like Draco Malfoy had told her that she wasn't good enough, and didn't deserve her magic. She had heard that over half her life. She never really believed them, but it was clear that after twelve long years of hearing the same things repeatedly, for example: 'you aren't good enough', even though in her heart she knew she was, after that long, a person was bound to crack! Twelve years equaled sensitive.

To have her husband question these things was unbearable. He must question her looks as well, with his 'no Helen of Troy' comment. He told her she was beautiful all the time, but beauty was in the eyes of the beholder, and Malfoy's eyes must behold something other than her.

To have her husband question these things was embarrassing. Her brain could reason that the things he said didn't matter, now if she could just reconcile her heart.

She had to be strong.

She just didn't want to anymore. Marriage was supposed to lighten her load, make things easier for her, not more difficult. Not cause her more pain.

She walked into the little wooden chapel where her adventures (pain) first started and looked in the window in the front. It was empty. Good, she could find solace, and wallow in her self-pity and be sensitive to her hearts content. She opened the door to the little sanctuary, and sat in the first pew. Back to the place where her inadequacies first blinded her with their brightness. It was also the place those same inadequacies were dispersed, by Draco, at her wedding. Now they'd returned, also at Draco's hand. This confused her so. Maybe if she sat here long enough, alone and silent, she could put everything in perspective. The only difference was that Draco wasn't here to help her this time. Instead, he was the reason she was here.

Damn her sensitivity!

Maybe it was a mistake to marry so quickly. Maybe they should take a page from the 'Ron and Pansy Story' and date for a while. Maybe she really did just want a wedding, and not a husband. She knew she didn't want to annul her marriage, but perhaps they should spend some time apart. Separate. Let things take their natural course.

She was insane! She didn't want to separate, but if she was seriously considering spending time apart, after only two weeks of marriage, what did that mean? She knew what it meant. It meant that it had been all Draco, all the time, twenty-four hours a day, for the last fifteen days now, and that was a lot of Draco, for anyone. His own mother would probably crack under the pressure!

She knew it was a two-way street. He was probably getting sick of her as well. She knew she was a lot to handle as well. Perhaps they should both go back to work, have some normalcy, and get away from each other that way. Writing a book together, and spending hour upon hour, day upon day together, would be a terrible, terrible idea.

She lay down on the hard wooden pew, in the warm, stuffy, little chapel, and closed her eyes to think. She had many things to consider.

XOXOXOXOX

Damn Hermione Granger! Draco had no idea where she was! The whole bloody Weasley clan was looking for her. Why was she always so dramatic! Why did she run away? If Draco were an honest man, which most of the times he was not, he would admit that she ran away because he was harsh up in the bedroom. He was mean, with the whole, 'you're not Helen of Troy' comment. Still, he said that HE thought she was beautiful! Wasn't that good enough? Did she have to have the admiration of half the wizarding world? And by half he meant the male population. What did she want, books written about her, stories dedicated to her, websites about her? She wasn't that special.

Except – she was. And he knew it. Too bad she didn't.

He collected their suitcases and took them to Red Rose cottage, hoping she would be sitting in her favorite chair, reading a book. He called her parents, and tried to act nonchalant, asking how the weather was there. Her father asked to talk to Hermione, so Draco knew she wasn't there. Draco told her father that she was having a bath, and would call him later.

He knew she wouldn't be at the Manor.

Heaven help him, what if she was with Weasel? No, she was a brat, not a crazy person.

He went back to the Burrow. He told everyone to go ahead and eat. They did, reluctantly. He searched a few more places, the hospital, and the park near the cottage. When he returned, Harry rushed to him, leaving the others at the picnic tables. "Have you found her?"

"No!" Draco said frantically. "Are you sure she didn't say anything before she left?"

"No, Malfoy, but I'm sure I've only ever seen her that upset one other time, and that was two weeks at Ron's wedding. Are you sure YOU didn't say something to cause such a reaction?"

"I swear, Potter, I didn't do a thing." ('Liar', he thought.)

Draco walked away from the other man, and tried to think like Hermione Granger. Fine, if he were Hermione Granger Malfoy, (it would be redundant to keep saying, 'no hyphen') where would he go? Somewhere with books? No. Somewhere she could be alone? Of course. Somewhere she could seek solace? Perhaps. Somewhere familiar? Undoubtedly. He knew where she was! If Potter was right in his assumption that she 'felt' the same as she did last week at Ron's wedding, that meant she went back there…back to the chapel.

He apparated to the front of the chapel, by the little wooden steps. He climbed the steps and opened one of the doors. On first inspection, he thought he was wrong. He didn't see her. He still walked in, partway. He looked to the left and to the right. He sat down at the second to the last pew. "Dammit Granger! Where the hell are you?" he asked.

XOXOXOXOX

Hermione heard the door open. She didn't look up, because she knew in her heart of hearts that it was Draco. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard him say, "Dammit Granger! Where the hell are you?" She contemplated, many long moments, remaining quiet, but she was brave. She had faced many things in her life, and had never run away before. Why should she run away now, and from him?

She heard him sit down. She heard him sigh. She was causing him pain, and she felt remorse. He had caused her pain as well, but he gave her only slight pain, unintentionally, and it was really nothing. She had caused him to bleed, not figuratively, but emotionally.

She started to sing. _"There are places I remember, all my life, though some have changed. Some forever not for better, some have gone, and some remain. All these places had their moments, with lovers and friends, I still can recall. Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I've loved you more."_ She didn't even know if the lyrics were right. She felt they were, if not correct, than appropriate.

Draco heard her lovely voice echo throughout the chapel. The sounds reverberated from pew to pew, around the rafters, and into his soul. "Hermione?" he asked. "Why did you run away?"

She stayed on her back, on the wooden pew, and said, "You said there was nothing special about me, and that you couldn't understand why anyone would bother with me. You said that no one gave a damn when I was with Ron, so why did everyone suddenly care now? It hurt me Draco, that you would say that, so flippantly. Without forethought. I know it was partially your jealousy talking, and partially the long weekend, but it still hurt."

"I'm sorry." He wanted to say more, but he had probably said enough. He stood up and walked toward her voice. He stood over the first pew, and saw her laying there, her hair fanned out around her, her hand on her stomach, her knees bent. There were even tears streaking her face. He sat down by her feet. He put his hand on her leg.

"You know, I think in my life, you have been the one to hurt me the most," she said.

"Rub salt in my wound, it would hurt less," he said with a frown. He removed his hand from her leg, and stood up. He turned his back to her, and stood by the pulpit. She sat up.

"I didn't mean it like that, well, maybe I did. I just meant, growing up, in school, you were the cruelest of them all, Draco. You alone caused me to cry so many times, and so many tears, and now that I'm older, I know it's because I always valued your opinion, the most. Even back when I thought I hated you, I didn't, not really. I always wanted you to view me as your equal," she began to cry, "someone you could value, and hold in high esteem, perhaps look past my blood, and see me for who I really am. I wanted you to think I was smart, clever, a good witch, and dare I say, pretty. I could never have admitted that I felt that way before, and I can barely admit it now." She cried harder, her head in her hands. She bent at the waist, and hugged her knees. "It just hurt so much, to know that even though we're now marriage, you still think those things. You still don't value me, or think I'm pretty, or a good witch. You still don't think I'm as good as you." Her weeping increased.

Draco turned to her. God, he was an idiot. He had caused her pain, when they were young and now, and he did say those things to be mean. Not just the things back at the burrow, but back in school and beyond. He was cruel to her, and made her feel inadequate. The only excuse he had was that he had NEVER felt that way. He had always wanted the same thing she had wanted, her acceptance, and the only way Draco Malfoy knew to express those feelings was to reject her, as he knew she would reject him. He still felt that way. He still felt she was too good for him, and even he thought the same as Oliver Wood. He was waiting for her to come to her senses and leave him.

So he sat down, on the other side of the church, across the aisle from her, and told her those exact things. He told her every insecurity he had ever felt at her hands. He hoped she would understand. He hoped she would forgive him.

When he was done, she stood up and went over one of the long windows. She wanted to forgive him. But how?

Even though he had a terrible singing voice, he started singing, "_Who knows how long I've loved you? Who knows I've loved you still? Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to I will."_

She sang the next stanza. _"For if I ever saw you, I didn't know your name, but it never really mattered. I will always feel the same."_ She turned toward him. She said, "You didn't lie when you said you couldn't sing, did you? The dead Beatles must be turning in their graves at the way you butchered their poor song."

"Tell me something I don't know," he said with a smile. He patted the wood beside him. She ignored him. He patted it again, and motioned with his head that he desired her to sit next to him.

She shook her head no.

He whistled at her, and said, "You there, come now."

"I'm not a dog," she said with an impish smile. Was he daft? She looked away, but before she knew it, he stood, grabbed her hand, and forcibly dragged her over to the pew he had just abandoned. He sat down, and pulled her on his lap, with his arms tight around her waist.

"Well, this is nice," he said.

"Let me up, Malfoy!" she insisted.

"No, because desperate times calls for desperate measures," he said.

She relaxed in his embrace and asked, "How are these desperate times, husband?"

"Because you might not want to call me husband any longer," he answered. He kissed her forearm, and said, "Am I right?"

"I admit I gave that a thought for one millisecond," she said, "and I actually did come to a decision."

He took a deep breath. He let her go, and she sat next to him. He said, "What did you decide?"

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	34. Chapter 34

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**Chapter 34**** –**

"Here is what I've concluded," she said, "I love you, and I know you love me, but we can both be a lot to take. We need some time apart, but we need to stay married. I really do want to go back to work. I also want us to move to a bigger house, of our own, where we will have room to move, and eventually grow. If you want to quit work, that's fine. You should do that. If we want to write a book later, we can do that too, but mostly, we need to start living a normal life, and have a normal marriage, and normally married people don't spend twenty-four hours a day with each other." She realized she was requesting a lot at one time. "Sorry, that's probably not what you meant, was it?" she asked.

"Right, I just wanted to know if you decided to divorce me or not," he said. "As for the other things, we have time to make decisions, and I promise, I will try to listen, and meet you halfway, just stop being so melancholy, because I can't keep trying to make you happy. You're either happy, or you're not. Either you love me, or you don't. We're either married, or we're not," he said. He frowned and said, "I'm being crass again, aren't I?"

She shrugged. "Oh well," she said. "I ramble and you're an arse. You are what you are, and I am what I am."

"Such sage wisdom, Granger. Where do you come up with it? 'I am what I am'," he mocked.

"You're mean," she stated, slapping his arm.

He laughed and said, "You have got to be joking! You think I'm the mean one? You are meaner than I am by far. Ten times, no, twenty times meaner."

"I may be meaner than you, I'll concede to that one, but at least I don't play the fool twenty hours of each day," she said.

"That would mean I'm playing the fool partially in my sleep, stupid," he said.

She stood up and said, "Well, ouch. That hurts. Stupid? Really?"

"Call me something and we'll be even," he said.

She thought for a moment and she said, "Ignoramus."

"Okay, now call me something I can spell," he laughed. "I've changed my assessment. You aren't stupid, you my dear, are a ninny."

She laughed and said, "A ninny? Do you know that's almost the same thing as an ignoramus? The dictionary definition of an Ignoramus is an offensive term that insults someone's intelligence, and I believe that is the same definition for a ninny. The only difference is that you can probably, hopefully, spell ninny."

He looked at her rather bored, faked a yawn, looked at his watch and said, "Are you done, Miss Dictionary Definition? I would call you something 'meaner', but since we've already established that you are the mean one, and since you also have a history of running away in tears, I better stick to 'ninny'." He stood up and joined her in the middle of the aisle.

"I didn't really cry, not much," she said, looking down.

He took both her hands and said, "I beg to differ, you had tears on your cheeks, and unless your eyes suddenly sprang a leak, you were crying," he reasoned.

"I most definitely, certainly, did not cry, Malfoy," she said.

"Boo Hoo, I say. I can prove it," he said.

"How?" she asked. He pulled her forward, and kissed her right cheek, and then her left. He put his arms around her body, and she put hers around his neck. "Well?" she asked again.

"Your cheeks are dry," he said.

"And how does that prove that I was crying earlier?"

"It doesn't, I just wanted to kiss your cheeks. I know you were crying, because I heard you and I saw you, right over there, when you were telling me what a horrible person I was, between tears, I might add."

"Oh, well, yes, I was crying after you came, I can't very well hide that fact, now can I?" she asked. "You did witness that. I thought you were implying I cried before you got here."

"I think that would be the truth, too," he reasoned. "However, no more arguing, ever."

"Ever? That will be difficult," she sighed. "We can't even not argue about whether or not I cried. You know what, though, I did cry. You were right. And I guess I might be a ninny."

"Might be? Didn't we agree after our wedding day that one of the rules of our marriage was that I'm always right?" he asked.

"You either hit your head very hard at one time, and you're suffering from brain damage, or you're delusional, because before our wedding, we decided the rules to marriage, and we decided that I am always right, not you," she corrected.

"I don't recall that," he said, although he did, since he came up with that rule. "By the way, I am absolutely starving, Granger, and you have that little diabetes thing going on, so shouldn't we go back to the Burrow and eat something, if they had the common courtesy to leave us any food, that is."

"I have to go back and apologize," she said. "Shall we?"

He took her hand and they went back to the Burrow with a 'pop'. When they arrived, the dinner table was already cleaned, with not a stitch of food in sight.

"Your damn dramatics cost me lunch, Granger," he said.

Oliver walked around the side of the house and said, "Actually, Malfoy, your meal awaits you, on the front porch. It's the two week anniversary of your wedding, you know." He opened the screen door to the kitchen, and escorted the pair through the house, and outside to the front porch. There was a little, white, wrought iron table with a faded pink tablecloth over top. On each side of the table were tall, white, wicker chairs. There were three candles, of different sizes, in the middle, around a cut glass vase full of fresh wildflowers. Hermione felt overwhelmed. Draco felt thankful. Draco leaned over to Hermione and said, "Look, matching plates. How did they manage that?"

George had a white cloth over his forearm. He walked up to the pair and said, "I am your maitre d'. A table for two, I presume?"

"Yes, please," Hermione said.

"Do you have a reservation?" he asked.

"I have a few," she said. She giggled. She turned to Draco and said, "Now, come on, laugh at that. You have to admit, that was funny."

He rolled his eyes. He leaned toward George and said, "Never mind the poor unfortunate girl. She was born without one funny bone in her whole body."

"Don't I know it," George said.

Draco stood upright and said, "Yes, we have a reservation for two, under the name of Malfoy."

George made a pretense of looking through a little book and he said, "Yes, here we are. I will show you to your table." He walked them over to the table, held out the chair for Hermione, pulled out the chair for Draco, and said, "Our best table. Well, it's our only table." He added, "Your waiter will be here shortly with your wine, and to take your orders."

Hermione leaned forward and with real excitement, said, "Oh, wine."

"Oh, wow," Draco mocked.

Harry came out, looking somewhat grumpy, and with a monotone, flat affect to his voice, said, "My name is Harry, I'm your waiter, can I start you with wine?"

Draco sneered and said, "I'd like to see the wine list, please."

"Malfoy, there's two choices for wine. Red or white. Now, what do you want?" he asked.

Ginny stuck her head out of the front door and said, "Stay in character, Harry!"

Harry cocked his head back and forth and mocked, "Stay in character, Harry," under his breath.

Hermione asked, "How come you're our waiter, if you don't want to be?"

"I lost the coin toss," he said. "Damn George." Ginny ran outside, with the wine and two glasses, and forced them in Harry's hands. "Here's your wine." He placed the glasses down next to Hermione, and put the bottle next to Draco and walked away.

"I say, terrible service here. I shall demand to speak with the manager," Draco said.

"Just don't leave him a tip," Hermione said with a smile.

Draco poured them both some wine, and swirled it in his glass. He looked at it, and then took a deep whiff. He put it to his lips, and literally spit it out. "Damn, that's awful."

"Draco, don't be rude," she said. She took a small sip, and grimaced. It was bad. She put her glass down and Bill came outside.

"May I take your orders?" he asked, with a large smile on his face.

"Where's the other waiter?" Hermione asked.

Bill leaned over to Hermione and said, "Mum fired him. She said his surly attitude was bad for business." Bill smiled, straightened back up, and said, "Our entrees for the day is the fish, lightly battered, or lemon peppered chicken. For side dishes, we have asparagus, steamed, or broccoli with cheese. Potatoes are roasted or boiled, with a sprig of parsley, and for pudding we have chocolate layer cake, with raspberries."

Draco raised his eyebrows and said, "We will both take the chicken, roasted potatoes, the broccoli and the cake."

"Very well, Sir," Bill said with a bow.

Hermione leaned forward and said, "I think I would rather have the fish, and the asparagus."

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Because that's what I want," she said slowly, pronouncing each word plainly, in case he had a mental defect. "I have never liked it when a man orders for a woman; it's like they think women don't know their own minds."

"Fine," Draco said. He looked at Bill and said, "So my wife won't go off crying, you better bring her the fish, the asparagus," he stopped talking and looked at Hermione and asked, "Are the roasted potatoes fine?" She nodded. He said, "And the roasted potatoes and the chocolate cake with raspberries."

Hermione almost squealed in excitement. "Isn't this sweet of them, to do this for our anniversary?"

"I just had a thought, Granger. This is not only our anniversary, but it's our first date," he said with a chuckle.

"It is, Malfoy. You said you show a girl a good time on a date, so you have a lot to live up to," she said. "I demand my good time! Bring on the fun."

As if on cue, an old Beatle record began to play on a scratchy old record player in the living room. He stood and offered his hand and said, "May I have this dance, Miss?"

She took his hand. The music temporarily stopped, as the sound of the needle scratched the record, and they heard Ginny say, "Charlie, you big oaf, you knocked into the record player. Start it over, now."

Draco whispered to Hermione, "I will take your dramatics to her bossiness any day."

"I'm sort of bossy, too," Hermione admitted.

"Not like that," he said. "She is absolutely an old shrew. It's a wonder Potter still has testicles. I would have thought they would have shriveled and dried-up by now." Hermione laughed, but hit his arm.

Finally, a song began playing again. It was 'Yesterday'.

"That's my dad's favourite," Hermione said. He took her into the circle of his arms, placing his right hand over hers, and his left hand on her back. He gently swayed her back and forth. She rested her head on his chest.

"This is perfect," she said.

"Yes it is," he said. "Hey, promise me something, okay?"

"Tell me first, and then I might," she answered honestly.

"No matter how much we fight, or disagree, or misunderstand, let's not take it so far that we run away from each other. I almost died inside when I couldn't find you, and I didn't even know why you left. You have to tell me when I hurt your feelings," he said.

"That was extreme of me, and I am sorry, and I do promise," she said. "It's been a long weekend, that's all. I am just anxious for this weekend to end so our life can start."

He looked at her face and said, "But Granger, it has started. This is it, you silly thing. You're waiting for something that has already occurred. No wonder you're on edge." The music continued to play, and they continued to sway, and she realized something; he had a point. This was life. This was THEIR life. She was waiting for it to start, and it already had. His observance of earlier, that she was a ninny; hit the nail on the head.

"I'm a ninny," she said.

"I told you so."

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	35. Chapter 35

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**Chapter 35 - **

Dancing with his arms around her, and hers around him, Draco Malfoy felt he had died and gone to heaven. Nothing could be as divine as this. It was pure bliss. After a second song ended, Bill walked out with their food. Hermione was the one to stop their dancing, (because Draco kept swaying, even after the song had ended), and she led them to the table.

Bill set one plate in front of Hermione, and then one in front of Draco. "The fish for the lady and the lemon chicken for the gentleman. Enjoy your meal."

Hermione said, "Bill missed his calling. He's a good waiter. You need to leave him a very large tip."

Draco took a bite of his chicken and said, "Oh, yes, I am sure he would give up the exciting job of curse breaker at Gringotts to be a waiter."

Bill laughed as he leaned down and poured them some more wine. Draco said, "Here's a tip for you Weasley Number One. Never ever marry someone like your sister, because she's going to turn into your mother."

Cringing internally, Bill said, "I'll keep that in mind, but since I _am_ already married, and she _is_ my SISTER, I think I can safely say that will never happen." He walked off as a roll flew out the front door and hit Draco in the head. Hermione turned around in time to see Ginny's arm draw back in the house.

"I didn't ask for more bread, Little Red!" he yelled. "At least you don't throw things at my head," he said to Hermione.

She merely shrugged. She was fairly certain she had thrown a few things at his head this weekend, but if he didn't recall them, who was she to bring it up? She started eating and said, "How is the chicken?"

"Very good, how's the fish?" he asked back.

"May I have a bite?" she asked. She didn't answer about the fish.

Draco cut a small piece of chicken for her, speared it with his fork, and handed it to her. She put it in her mouth, and handed his fork back, saying, "This really is good. Do you want to trade?"

He asked again, "How's the fish?"

"I prefer the chicken," she answered.

"HA! See, I knew it! The rule really should be, 'Draco's always right'!" Draco said with glee.

Again, she asked, "Can we trade?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Well, when you say please, the answer is still no."

"I might cry again."

"What else is new? I am desensitized to your crying already, because you do it so much," Draco said.

"Draco!"

"Hermione!" he mocked, with the same emphasis as she.

"I'll give you my asparagus, too," she offered.

"How does that sweeten the deal? I don't even like asparagus?" he reasoned. "If you aren't satisfied with your selection, send it back and get the chicken."

"That would be rude. It's not a real restaurant. I can hardly send my food back," she said.

"Then I feel badly for you, sweetness," he said, eating another bite of his chicken.

"I would share with you, if you asked," she said, trying hard not to whine.

He pointing his fork at her, and a small piece of chicken flew off and landed on her plate, which she popped in her mouth. "I know you would," he said, still pointing his fork.

"I really would," she said.

"I wasn't being sarcastic. I know you would, and that's your problem. You're a little do-gooder, all nice and all. I don't want anyone to ever mistake me for nice, because I'm not."

"You're always nice and sweet to me these days," she said sincerely.

She bent her head and began to eat her potatoes. He stared at her for the longest time, before he said, "Damn, Granger, why throw that in my face?"

She looked up confused and said, "Most people don't mind being thought of as nice."

He cut his chicken in half and stood up, placing half of it on her plate. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She smiled. She knew she had not 'sweet talked' Draco out of his chicken, because he could never be talked 'in to' or 'out of' anything. She knew him better than that. He did it because he loved her, and because he was sweet and nice.

She smiled at him and said, "Thanks. Do you want half of mine? You can still have my asparagus, too."

"That's okay," he said. "You might want my broccoli if I take your asparagus."

"No, I don't like broccoli. It gives me gas," she said quietly, so no one could hear.

He laughed and said, "What pleasant dinner conversation. The subject of flatulence always makes me hungry. What other bodily function can we discuss next? How about your menstrual cycle? How about phlegm?"

She gave him a disgusted look. He smiled at her and added, "Next time we have dinner at the Manor, I dare you to mention flatulence to Lucius and Narcissa."

Now she laughed. "I don't think so. I can't even imagine either of your parents passing gas, let alone talking about it. Your father would probably say to me, 'you're a Malfoy now, girl, we don't pass gas, let alone talk about it'."

"I can't believe we've just talked about it for the last five minutes, and on a first date, as well," he said truthfully. "We are a newly married couple. We should have something more interested to talk of than about such things."

They were silent for a while and she finally said, "Would you give me one of your kidneys if I needed one?"

Without missing a beat Draco said, "I already gave you a piece of my chicken, now you want one of my major organs? Where did that come from?"

"I just wondered."

He shook his head in shock and said, "I suppose I would, although I rather think that it would be too large for you."

She looked up to see if he was joking, as he was so apt to do. She stared at him incredulously, wondering if he was sincere with his 'too large' comment as he was with the comment about using his urine for the pregnancy test. When she couldn't tell which it was, she said, "Are you joking?"

He smiled at her. "So gullible. Just don't ever ask for my heart or lungs," he said.

"You couldn't live without your heart," she said.

"That's not the reason," he said, "it's because you already have it."

"Really? Well, that's sweet," she said. She put his piece of chicken back on his plate and said, "And I didn't really want your chicken. I just wanted to see if you would give it to me. I like the fish." She was lying, but she wanted to give him back his chicken, because he had said that nice thing about his heart already belonging to her.

He smiled at her this time. She hadn't even touched her fish, which meant he had taught her the art of lying well, and that thought warmed his soul. He put the half of piece of chicken back on her plate and then took her fish. "I would rather have the fish," he lied right back.

After eating their meal, including the cake, Hermione and Draco stood up from the table. Draco reached in his pocket. "Don't really leave them a tip," she said.

"Why not? The food was good and after they got rid of that deformed waiter, the one with the big scar on his head, the service was good," Draco said. He put several hundred galleons on the table.

Hermione laughed. Bill came out to clear the table, and saw the money. He left it there, but Harry came out after, put it in his pocket, and said, "I will use this for scar removal surgery, Blondie."

Draco sat on the old weathered front porch swing. Hermione plopped down beside him, causing the swing to bounce up and down. She put her head on his shoulder, and he stroked her hair.

"So, what do people usually do here after lunch?" he asked.

"Play games, listen to the wireless, they even have a telly," she said. "Sometimes just sit around and talk outside. Everyone usually leaves by three or four."

"Does Wood come to Sunday dinner's often?" he asked. He really wanted to know.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and said, "Seriously, besides the weekend we married and this weekend, he has only come maybe twice that I can think of, so to answer that question, no."

Draco was glad about that. It wasn't that he really disliked the other man, he just would rather not see him every week. As soon as he thought that, he was surprised to discover that he thought of them coming here every week. He hadn't thought about that before. "Do we plan on coming every Sunday?"

"Not every, I suppose, although I did in the past." She sat up straight, and turned her body to face him. He had both his long legs bent at the knees, and was swinging the swing back and forth, without even lifting his legs. Hers were merely dangling anyway, so she tucked one under her and dangled the other.

She said, "I didn't come here over the last nine months or so, because Ron and Pansy had been coming; I've missed this place. The Burrow has been a part of my life for so long, and the Weasleys have been my surrogate family, but you know what, we are a family now, and we should start our own traditions."

He agreed and said, "Next Sunday is booked for us anyway."

"What do you mean?" she wondered aloud.

"We need to finish my list off, all on one day, and that is to take place next Sunday, remember?" he asked, taking her hand.

"I forgot that we agreed to that. I even forgot about your list," she said honestly. "Let's make a list of things we are going to do next week. I love making lists." She jumped off the swing and ran into the house, leaving her confused husband behind.

Harry and Ginny were kissing on the sofa. She shook her head at them. Some of the men were playing cards at the table. Fleur and Bill were playing with their baby outside. Mrs. Weasley was cleaning the kitchen. Hermione asked, "Do you need help?"

"No, Sweetheart, you enjoy your anniversary," the older woman commanded.

"In that case, do you have some parchment and quill, or better yet, parchment and a pen?" she asked.

Mrs. Weasley handed her some parchment, and Percy reached in his shirt pocket, withdrew a pen, and tossed it to her.

She ran back outside and said, "Let's make our list." She sat back down next to Draco and put the pen in the corner of her mouth. She next tapped her chin with the pen and said, "There's just so much to do, I don't know what to write first."

He took the pen from her and said, "Instead of making a 'to do' list, let's make a list of things we can do to make sure we have a perfect marriage."

She bit her bottom lip. He raised his eyebrows and took the parchment from her as well. He reached over for a book that was on the porch railing and placed it under the paper. He wrote out, very largely, on the top of the paper a heading that read, **"Things that make a perfect marriage."**

She leaned over toward him and said, "Number one, the wife is always right."

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	36. Chapter 36

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**Chapter 36 –**

"Number one, the wife is always right," Hermione said, leaning toward her husband.

"Unfortunately for me, that probably is true," he said. He wrote that down as number one. Next, he wrote and said aloud, "Have lots of sex."

Hermione laughed. She took the pen from him and put three exclamation points. She handed the pen back. "That should be number one," she said.

"Well, you are always right," he said with a hint of a smile. He took his wand and with a tap, the two sentences traded places. He said, "What's number three?"

"Too much crying might drown you," she said.

"Good one." He wrote that down. He said, "Number four, if you are going to be a wanker, be sure the little woman doesn't hear what you say."

"I agree with that one totally," she said.

He put the pen up to his mouth and said, "What else?"

She said, "How about, don't kiss your wife when she has a sharp knife in her hand?"

"Good point, good point," he said. He added that and wrote in parenthesis, (unless she has diabetes, and it helps to diagnose her, in that case in point, it is acceptable.) "Number six, Granger?"

She said, "If your husband hates your Justin Timberlake poster, take it down and hide it somewhere he can't see it." He glared at her and wrote, 'take down pretty boy poster, or risk losing closet door'. She looked at what he wrote and said, "Just change that to 'be sensitive to your spouse's points of view'."

"Number seven is, never eat cake in the rain," he said.

"What?" she laughed.

"It's a good point," he said, "The icing melts and the cake becomes soggy."

"How does that help for a perfect marriage?" she asked.

"It doesn't, it's just words of wisdom," he answered. She took the parchment from him, and with her wand, banished the number seven he had just written. She wrote in its place, "Don't run away without explanations."

"That's slightly better than the cake one," he said. He took the parchment from her and said, "Let's think of at least three more, for an even ten."

They continued to sit and swing and she put her head on his shoulder. She finally said, "Cherish the little moments in life, for they are the ones you will remember the most."

"Nice, somewhat sugar-coated, but definitely greeting card worthy," he said. He wrote it down, adding his own little sentiment next to it. "I have number nine. Think of little games you can play, to keep your marriage fresh and new."

She didn't really like that one, but she gave it to him. She said, "Do you have another, for an even ten?"

"I do," he said. He wrote something down, folded the parchment, and put it in his pocket.

"What does it say?" she asked.

"Oh, I will let you see later," he said. He put his arm around her. "I don't want to go back to work, Hermione, but if you want me to, to save our marriage, I will."

"It's not like our marriage is on tether-hooks, Malfoy. It's not that important. Anyway, I will go back to work, so we will have some time apart. I think I will wait one more week, and then go back."

"Okay, and while we are both off work next week, we can go house hunting. Something small, maybe seven bedrooms, six baths, a five car garage," he said.

She laughed, but he was serious. "How about four bedrooms, three baths?" she asked.

"How will we get by with just three baths? Really, Granger, we aren't poor, there's no reason to live like paupers," he said.

"I was thinking of something like my parent's house," she reasoned.

"Like I said, no reason to live like paupers," he said again, with a grin. "And I will break it to my parents, I think they will understand and come to accept it in time. Besides, they will blame you, not me, so it's all good."

"I'm sure," she said. "Let's also decide something else. We will spend one Friday night dinner a month at your parents, and one at mine, and the other two will be our date nights."

"I plan to date you every day and every night," he explained. "How about this one? Holidays will be hard as well. I say, we spend every other Christmas at one set of parents, and then the other, but Christmas Eve is ours. Boxing day, we will split between the two."

"Sounds reasonable," she said. "This is working out well."

"Now, about children," he said, "We already decided the weekend that we married that we wanted four, but were you serious about that, or were you just in a sex haze?"

She laughed and said, "I was serious, but we may not really have as much control over that as we do other things. What happens will happen."

"When do you want to start?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"We haven't done anything to make sure it won't happen, so in a way, we have already started, and that's good to me. What do you think?" she asked.

"It's amendable," he said with a grin. "I thought I wanted you all to myself, but I wouldn't mind a little Granger Malfoy running around. As long as they have my hair, I insist on that, Hermione, and I won't give in one bit."

"Fine, fine, your hair, my brains," she said.

"The girls can have your breasts," he laughed.

"Because the boys will look funny with my breasts," she said. She snickered. He stared. She said, "Now come on, laugh at that one at least. That one was funny! I really do have my moments of jocularity!"

"First, people with a good sense of humour don't say uppity words like 'jocularity' and second, that was a good one," he said. He pinched her arm.

"Ouch," she said.

He took her hand and kissed the top of it. "So, new house, divided holidays, children, girls with breast, but not until they are well grown up and out of the house," he added. She rolled her eyes. "What else, Granger?"

"Maybe we could still write our book, but more for us than anything. I think it would be lark, a right fun time, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes, I do." He started to swing them higher.

"If I hadn't come with you to the reception, what would you have done? Would you still have asked me out on a date?" she asked.

He really thought about it. He had thought about it a lot over the last two weeks, and really, well before they married. Even though the weekend of Ron's wedding was the first time he had officially seen her in three years, he had seen her, here and there, at different events, and places, for years. He would sneak looks at her. He just never struck up the nerve to go talk to her. Then, two weeks ago, when he waited for her at the chapel, it took all the courage he had ever had to wait outside that day for her. He didn't even know what he was going to say to her. The only reason he even came to the stupid wedding was with the hope of seeing her, and the hope that he might ask her out on a date.

He knew he would have to tread softly with her. He knew she would be hurting because Weasel married, but he didn't care. He had waited long enough. Draco Malfoy generally always got what he wanted, and usually, with ease. Things just usually happened for him; he bought them, or his father got them for him. He never really ever had to work for anything in his life. However, he knew with Hermione Granger, he would have to work hard to win her over. He had carefully planned everything out in his head long before that day.

Would he have asked her out? Hell, yes. He thought she might stay and talk to him after the wedding, he thought he might have been able to convince her to get some coffee, and a few days after that, he thought he might 'accidentally' get hurt at work, have to visit St. Mungo's, have her for a Healer, and then be endearing and sweet, and ask her out on a date.

He figured the first time she would say 'no', so he would have to go back for a recheck, or heaven forbid, get hurt again, and he would be incredibly witty the second time, ask her out again, she would hem and haw, and then finally she would agree. He thought she might cancel that first time.

In that case, he was prepare to send her flowers and some really rare, antique book, maybe a rare second edition of Hogwarts a History , or something, although something like that might cost a million galleons, he figured she was worth it.

After that, she would agree to go out with him. They would have a lovely first date; he would not even try to kiss her. It would just be a nice, sweet, romantic date. The next day he would call her and ask to pop over. Afraid of 'Draco' overload, he would only spend a few minutes, but he would make a lasting impression. He would wait a few days more, but to let her know he hadn't forgotten her, he would send her a little note or gift each day, nothing outrageous, nothing ostentatious or creepy.

The second date they would do something outside, an all day type of date. He might hold her hand. He would find little excuses to touch her. Take a leaf out of her hair, hit her arm when she made a joke, (how did he know she had no sense of humour?), and perhaps the old, 'you have an eyelash on your cheek', and he would have to pretend to remove it. That one always worked.

He would ask her out again, their third date, and she would offer to cook for them at her house. He would bring a nice bottle of wine. They would kiss, and it would be glorious. They would spend all night on the sofa, talking about their hopes and dreams. They would apologize about their past. It would be well after midnight, and he would finally tell her he had to go. She would walk him to her front door, and he would draw her into his arms and kiss her with incredible skill (ahem, ahem) and passion.

She would call him and initiate the fourth date. She would probably want to go to a show, a museum, or an art exhibition. He would go anywhere with her, no matter how boring. He would take her to his house afterwards, and they would have a heavy snogging session on his couch. He still would not push for sex. Not with her. He wouldn't risk losing her. He would wait…for her.

After that, he would improvise. He thought that after they dated perhaps two weeks, he would invite her to go away for the weekend. If she said yes, she was ready for sex. Their first time would be glorious. Hell, their first time _was_ glorious.

Yes, he had it all planned out in the beginning. He had ulterior motives the second he heard she was going to the wedding, and he sent in his RSVP. Even though it didn't quite work out as he planned, it turned out better than he had hoped, and in a way, he didn't feel cheated, because everything he wanted to happen did, just slightly different and faster, but ten times better.

Therefore, he said, "I really didn't give it much thought, but I might have asked you out on a date. I just might have."

Bill walked out of the house and asked, "Is your date over? We all have a surprise for you inside."

"I love surprises," Hermione said with a smile.

Draco leaned over, kissed her cheek and said, "I have a surprise for you, too, later." She winked at him, and he smiled. He jumped off the swing, reminiscent of how he jumped off last weekend, but instead of letting the swing bounce all around with her this time; he put he hands on the rusted chains, and stopped it immediately.

"Thanks," she said. She stood up and he took her hand.

They walked in the house, and were surprised by what they saw.

_____________________________________________________________________

Rules to a Perfect Marriage

By

Draco A. Malfoy and

Hermione J. Granger Malfoy

1- Have lots of great sex!!!

2- The wife (in this case, Hermione) is always right

3 - Too much crying might drown you

4 - If you are going to be a wanker, don't let your spouse overhear you.

5- Don't kiss your wife's neck while she is making a salad, (unless she has diabetes, and it helps to diagnose her, in that case in point, it is acceptable.)

6 - If you there is something that your spouse doesn't like, be sensitive to their point of view. (Or, throw away a pretty boy poster or else be prepared to lose a closet door.)

7 – Don't run away without explanations.

8 - Cherish the little moments in life, for they tend to mean the most (sappy but true)

9 - Think of little games to keep your marriage fresh and new

10 – Just love each other, and never forget it.

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	37. Chapter 37

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**Chapter 37 –**

Bill came outside to the swing and told Draco and Hermione that they all had a surprise for them. With anticipation, the pair walked into the house, Draco grasping Hermione's hand a bit too tightly and Hermione biting down on her bottom lip. The family had already done so much for them, what else could there be?

Whatever they were expecting, it wasn't what was before them. Draco stood with his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide, in total shock. Hermione clapped her hands together, and jumped up and down, in excitement. There on the mantel, along with all the other family portraits, Bill and Fleur's wedding, each Weasley child's graduation, baby Victoire's first steps, Harry and Ginny's wedding, was a picture of Hermione and Draco on their wedding day, as they walked out of the chapel hand in hand. Missing was a picture of Ron and Pansy.

Percy said, "I snapped that one, and I'm not even sure you saw me do it. I have a copy for you, too, and I already sent all the Muggle pictures I took to your parents, and Ginny put the copies of those and some others in an album for you."

"But, it's up there with your family's pictures," Draco said, astonished.

Molly walked up to him and patted his cheek, and said, "What did you think would happen when you married our girl? You became part of the family, Draco dear. We love her, so therefore, we love you."

"Yeah, we love you," George said. Everyone laughed.

Hermione walked over to the portrait and pulled it toward her, for closer inspection. Draco stood behind her. The picture showed their friends and families flanking each side of the little steps, and Hermione and Draco walking out of the chapel, hand in hand, smiling at each other, leaning over, and kissing. Then it would repeat the same scene. Hermione was awestruck at their kindness.

She held it to her chest, and said, "This is the best surprise, ever!"

Charlie walked up to her, took the picture from her hands, and said, "That's our copy, get your own," and he placed it back in its honoured spot on the mantel. Ginny handed them two ornately wrapped boxes.

She said, "The one is the wedding picture, in a frame hand painted by Fleur, and the other one is the picture album. Like Percy said, we made one for your folks, Hermione, with non moving pictures, and one for Draco's parents with wizard pictures. Percy sent them out by owl about an hour ago."

Hermione started to cry and Draco said, "Great, now she's crying again. I can't even count how many times she's cried this weekend."

She gave him a dirty look and said, "These are tears of joy, you wanker."

"Prude," he said.

"Dolt," she said.

"Crybaby," he said.

"Idiot," she said.

Mr. Weasley said, "Yes, I think they have a long and happy marriage ahead of them." Everyone laughed.

"Who wants pie?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Everyone followed her into the kitchen, including Draco.

Harry held Hermione back and said, "I have a present for you, too, but I want to give it to you in private."

"Should I get Draco?" she asked.

"No, it's just for you, since I didn't get you an engagement, wedding, or anniversary present," he said with a grin. "Come on, follow me upstairs."

They walked up the stairs, under the watchful eyes of Draco and Ginny, and Harry ushered her to Ginny's old room. He took both her hands and told her to close her eyes.

She closed her eyes, and suddenly, she felt a soft kiss on one side of her face, and then the other. She opened her eyes and said, "Is that all I get? Two little kisses on my cheeks?"

"No, that's just the first part of the present," Harry said with a laugh. "Sit down on the bed."

"Now, Harry, we're both married," she joked.

"Sit down, Granger," he said.

She sat down on the bed. He walked over to the closet, and opened it up. She tried to look around his body, to see what he had in his hands, but his back was in the way. He stood upright and said, "Now, shut your eyes again."

She did so, and she felt the weight of his body on the mattress next to hers, as he came to sit next to her. She opened her eyes as he placed a package in her hands. "What is it?"

"Gee, I don't know, I wonder how you can find out?" he asked.

She laughed and opened the present. It was a small wooden box, no larger than a book, (at first, she thought it was a book). The top had a picture, a Muggle picture, taken of Hermione and Draco during Ron and Pansy's reception. She didn't even know anyone took their picture that day. It was them, sitting at a table, faces toward each other, holding hands, and looking into each other's eyes. On a small gold name plate, under the picture, was their names and the date of their wedding. She looked up at Harry, and he smiled.

Just then, Draco walked in the room. He said, "Thanks Potter, I'll take it from here." Harry leaned over, kissed Hermione's cheek again and started out the door. He patted Draco's arm before he left.

"This is from you?" she asked.

"It's my surprise," he said. "Open it, Granger."

He sat beside her and she opened the wooden box. Music began to play from the box. The song was "Something", the song he had played at their wedding. The box was full of mementos and the like, from the weekend they fell in love. The first thing was a little netted bag of rice, tied with ribbon. She held it up and laughed.

"Rice?" she asked.

"Yes, remember, you threw the whole bag of rice right at the Weasel's head after the ceremony? I laughed so hard, it was the best part of the wedding."

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_**Draco nearly laughed his arse off when Granger threw that handful of rice right in Weasel's face. Draco was sure it was intentional, for she ducked behind another guest so no one would know it was she, but Draco saw the whole thing. Well, bully for her, he thought.**_

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The next item was a feather. She held it up and looked confused. She said, "Please, do explain this one."

He took the feather from her fingers and tickled her nose with it. She hit it away and he said, "Aunt of the bride, should I say more?"

"Yes, because I still don't remember this," she admitted.

"We were sitting at the reception, making fun of the wedding guests, and you saw the aunt of the bride and you made that comment about her hat remember?"

She laughed. She did remember.

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_**Hermione said, "She must have transfigured a peacock and put it on her head, not realizing that the spell didn't work."**_

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The next item was a small white daisy. She remembered this one. She clutched it to her chest, closed her eyes, and smiled as she reminisced.

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_**He plopped down on the ground beside her. Hermione had a white daisy in her hand. He took it from her and played with it a moment. Then he leaned over and put it in her hair, behind her ear. It was one of the most romantic things anyone had ever done, and her heart skipped a beat.**_

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She held up the garter from the wedding and said, "Now, why did you think this would bring up good memories? How did you even get it from the little tart?"

"How did that get in there?" he joked. He took the garter and flipped it across the room.

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_**Hermione looked at him and said, "Did you and the tramp have a nice time with the garter belt."**_

"_**Yes, it was rather pleasant," he said, lying back on the ground.**_

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She next drew out a large burr. She laughed and said, "Was this one of the actual thickets that was in your bum, or a reproduction?"

"Would I give you a fake anything?" he asked.

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_**He stayed on his back, and said, "Oh, my bum!" She crawled over to him, laughing. **_

_**She said, "Your bum? Did you hurt your buttocks, Malfoy?"**_

"_**No, you hurt me," he amended, trying to sit up. He lay back down and said, "I really hurt myself." She kneeled over him, and turned him over to his side. She let out a gasp. "What?" he asked alarmed.**_

"_**It's your backside that hurts?" she asked, with him still on his side.**_

"_**Well, not my backside so much, as…well, fine, my backside, why?" he asked back. She started laughing, and could not stop. He said, "What the bloody hell, Granger?"**_

"_**Malfoy, you must have rolled into some thickets. You have about four or five burrs stuck right to your backside!" She continued to laugh.**_

"_**Take them off me!" he said, still on his side.**_

"_**Take down your pants," she urged.**_

_**He looked back at her and said, "If you want to see me naked, that won't come until date number 30."**_

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The little white polished stone she gave him as a wedding present was next. She looked confused and said, "You had that in your pocket at my parents' house on Friday, so how did it get in this box today?"

"Magic," he said with a smile.

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_**She stood back up and went over to her purse. She sat down beside him again, and said, "Close your eyes, and hold out your hand."**_

"_**This better be good," he said, closing his eyes. He felt something plop on his hand. He opened his eyes, and there in his hand was a small, smooth, white, polished stone.**_

"_**What is this?" he asked, holding it to his face to examine it more closely. It almost looked like it was made from glass.**_

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He reached in the box next and withdrew a small white box. She knew it was the box that contained the bracelet he gave her for a wedding present; however, she always wore the bracelet, so it couldn't be in the box. She looked at her wrist, and it was sans bracelet. She said, "Hey!" She opened the box, and her bracelet was inside.

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_**Draco said, "Shut your eyes, and hold out your hand." She did as requested. He placed the small white box in her hand. She opened her eyes, and took off the lid. She looked at him once before she looked in the box. Inside was a silver bracelet with a single pendant. The pendant was a diamond teardrop, which sparkled and shined as she held it up to examine it.**_

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Hermione placed the box with her bracelet back on the bed, and reached in to find his watch. His watch played an important role that first weekend. It was how he measured 'what date' they were on, 'when their anniversary was', and also, when they were to marry. She recalled the words he told to her that day.

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_

"_**I was thinking about how I wasted so much of my life, not having you in it. I feel as if my life is just beginning, right now," he said. He kissed her hair. She drew circles on his chest. **_

"_**I know that I feel the same way. We should never waste another moment. Let's make a pact now, that no matter what, we won't waste one more minute or our lives without the other in it," she said. She lifted her head, to look in his eyes.**_

"_**It's a deal," he said. He put his hand on her cheek, and said, "And to answer your question from earlier," he said, looking at his watch, "It's 3:06 am."**_

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The words he said that day, "_**MY LIFE IS JUST BEGINNING**_" was in fact inscribed on the inside lid of the box. Below that was written: "_**LET'S NOT WASTE ONE MORE MINUTE OF OUR LIVES WITHOUT THE OTHER ONE IN IT."**_

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Hermione laughed at the next item, a little pink sock, which belonged to Victoire. She said, "You stole a child's sock?"

"No, I told her parent's about my gift, and they gave it to me. Seeing you with that baby, bathing her, dressing her, reading to her, made me see what a great mum you would be someday."

"How did you feel when I almost threw up changing her poopy nappies?" Hermione asked.

"That's the next item in there, by the way," Draco joked. Hermione hit his arm. "Seriously, that only made me love you more."

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_**She finally got the little girl dressed, sans shoe and socks. "Draco, put her socks on her. At least do something useful."**_

_**Draco sat on the floor, in front of Hermione's legs and reached up as Hermione held the baby on her lap, brushing the baby's hair. He took her little foot, and put one sock on. He started to put the other one on, but instead, he smelled the baby's foot and said, "Eww, stinky!"**_

_**Victoire laughed. So did Hermione. Draco tickled her foot and then put the last sock on. **_

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The last two items were his tie from the wedding, purple, by the way, and her bouquet, which was her something blue. He said, "Remember what I said. I said, 'If I asked you to marry me, right now, right here, and I meant it sincerely, what would you say?' and you said, 'Are you asking me, right here, right now?' and I said, 'I might be'."

"Yes, I recall," she said. "You also said, 'If I ask you, right now, right here, to marry me, and I said I wanted to do it as soon as possible, say, by 1:00 pm. Twenty-four hours from the beginning or our relationship. What would you say to that?' and I said yes, if I recall."

"No, first you said that would be impossible," he reminded, "then I told you to leave everything to me, and then you screamed, 'YES', and I was happier than I had ever been in my life," Draco exclaimed.

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"_**Come on Granger, leap of faith here, and show me your Gryffindor courage! YES OR NO?"**_

"_**YES!" she blurted out.**_

"_**YES?" he questioned.**_

"_**YES!" she said, laughing and shaking all over. "MY ANSWER IS YES!"**_

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Hermione gently placed all the items back in the box, and closed the lid. She said, "How long have you been planning this little surprise?"

"Truthfully?" he asked.

"As hard as it is for you to tell the truth, yes, I really want to know," she said, placing the box on the floor by their feet, and her hand on his cheek.

"Since right after the wedding. That's when I pilfered most of the items," he said honestly.

"Draco Malfoy, you are without a doubt the sweetest man I've ever know. You are almost so sweet that I feel sick, being the diabetic that I am," she laughed. She said, "See, funny. I am so funny."

He merely shook his head. He pushed her down on the bed, and he crawled up so that he was up against the headboard. He pulled her over to his arms, and held her tight. He said, "Is this perfect or what?"

"I know something that would make it even more perfect," she said.

"Perfecter?" he asked.

"That's not a word, I was using the correct grammar when I said more perfect," she corrected.

"I think it's Perfect, Perfecter, and Perfectest," he said.

"I doubt it, but we'll look it up in the dictionary later, if you'd like," she said, rolling her eyes, to humour him.

He laughed and said, "Now that's humour, Granger."

"No, that's stupidity, Malfoy. Now, do you want my present to you?"

"I doubt you have a present for me. You didn't know about this little two week anniversary. I did. I planned the whole thing, right down to the little romantic dinner on the front porch," he revealed.

"You planned that?" she asked.

"With their help, yes, although in hindsight, I should never have trusted Potter with the important role of waiter. I should have assigned him busboy," Draco said. "Never mind that, if you want to pretend you have a perfect present for me, go for it. Give it to me."

She scooted to the side of the bed, and started out the door. She turned to him and said, "Just give me a second." She walked out the door and went to the bathroom. He stayed on the bed, still doubting the existence of the 'so called perfecter present'.

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	38. Chapter 38

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**Chapter 38 – **

Damn, damn, bloody double damn! Hermione didn't have a present for him! Why would she? While she made a big 'to do' earlier about it being their two week anniversary, she didn't really think it was that important, and while he acted like it was no big deal earlier, he secretly had all of this planned.

He was so sweet, kind, and thoughtful. Who would have thought it? Those were not words a person would usually associate with Draco Malfoy. Crude, rude and spoiled, yes, but not sweet, kind and thoughtful.

What should she do? She went to the bathroom and paced around. She had to use the toilet, so she thought she would kill two birds with one stone, urinate and think of a quick present. Maybe her urinating could be the present. She laughed at her little joke. Why no one ever thought she was funny, she would never know. She did have one present she could give him, but she was saving that, and she didn't particularly want to share it with all the Weasleys, no matter how much she loved them.

Draco was tired of sitting on the bed, waiting for a present that he knew she didn't have. He went out in the hall, and thought he heard someone in the bathroom. He knocked quickly on the door and said, "Granger? Are you in there?"

"Yes, Malfoy, nature called and I was forced to answer," she said through the door. She opened the door when she was finished.

"Did you wash your hands?" he asked.

"Of course I did," she said, affronted.

"I didn't hear the water," he accused.

"Draco Malfoy, you are only asking this because I asked you the very same thing during the weekend at Ron's reception. I'm a Healer; I understand the importance of washing one's hands after using the toilet!"

He held her hands and said, "They aren't wet."

"I dried them," she said.

"Your bandage isn't wet," he sneered, still holding her hands.

She pulled her hands from his and said, "For goodness sakes! I washed my bloody hands!"

"Button, Granger, watch your tone," he said with a smile. "I heard the water running, that's how I knew you were in there," he finally admitted. "Now that your bodily functions have been taken care of, where is my perfecter present?"

There was still that one thing. Should she tell him? She wasn't going to tell him until they got home. She bit her bottom lip, something she did when she was nervous or anxious. He narrowed his gaze, cocked his head, and said, "What is it? You want to tell me something, don't you?"

"Well, not really," she lied. "Okay, you see, the thing is," she began, but stopped. No, she wasn't going to say anything right now. Instead, she decided to be truthful about something else. She said, "Fine, I don't have a perfect present for you! I don't have any present for you! You were so wonderful, and I'm pitiful and you're a better spouse than I am! Damn, I wanted to give you something amazing, I really, really, did!" She backed up against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor.

He sat beside her and said, "I already have the greatest gift in the world." He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

"See, you're so sweet these days, and you're my greatest gift as well," she said simply.

"Oh, we have a communication problem," he said. "I wasn't referring to you, although you're nice as well, I meant this new watch." He held up his wrist. "My mum gave it to me before we left, because she noticed I didn't have one on, and I told her how it was in the little box as part of your present, so she gave me this one, made by some Muggle watch maker. A Rolex I believe."

"WHAT?" she asked. She looked at his wrist. "That is nice," she finally said. "I could never afford to give you a Rolex."

"That's fine, you've given me so much more," he said. "Also, I might remind you that when we married, that made you as wealthy as me. You're now also the fourth richest person in the Wizarding world, sharing that title with me, of course."

"I don't want your money," she said. "I have money."

"Not very much," he said.

"Draco, really, I grew up being known as well off. My parents made very good money, and with the job I have now, I make good money," she said.

He leaned toward her and said, "Whisper in my ear how much money you make a year."

She leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

He openly laughed and said, "I spend more than that on clothes a year!"

"Well, I'm sorry that I don't have as much as you, but I'm not poor, not by a long shot, and I really don't want your money, and I might remind you that I make more money as a Healer than you make as an Auror. Also, I would hate for people to assume I married you for money," she said, "when the truth is I married you for your looks."

"Now that's funny!" he said, hitting her arm. "But, seriously, like I said, you give me more than riches or fancy things."

"Like what?" she asked. She really couldn't think of anything she'd given him besides that little white rock, which he apparently did not want anymore since he had given it back to her.

"You're so silly. You gave me you, and that's the best gift ever. Dare I say, better than this watch," he said smiling. "Not as good as the little white rock, which I stole back and put back in my pocket by the way, but not too bad. I'm talking about you, by the way, in case you didn't catch it the first time I said it," he said, awkwardly.

At least he really did like the rock.

Moreover, he really was sweet after all. What a weird thought. Draco Malfoy was sweet.

"Gee, Malfoy, you too are a wonderful present, and you'll always fit me and I won't ever have to give you back," she said, snuggling to his side. He slipped his arm around her.

"If I get old and faded, will you give me to the poor?" he asked.

"Never, things get better when they get old, faded and comfortable. How about me? When I start to look old, and you see a younger, newer model, will you be tempted to trade me in?" she asked.

He thought for a moment, (a moment too long in her opinion) and then he said, "No, you're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you. For better for worse," he said.

"For richer or poorer," she added.

"In good times and in bad," he continued.

"In sickness and in health," she waned.

He didn't say the last line, so she said, "You're suppose to say, until death do us part."

"Oh, death won't part us. You'll be stuck with me even after we die. If I die first, I will haunt you until you die, and then we will be together for eternity. If you die first, you can haunt me," he said. After he said it, he regretted it. He grew quiet. He didn't want to think of such things, especially since she was ill. To change the subject, he said, "Those vows do apply to us, you know. The better part is my getting you for a wife, and the worse part is you getting Lucius for a father-in-law."

She shivered.

He laughed.

He continued by saying, "The richer or poorer part is obvious. I'm richer, and you're poorer."

"Right, Malfoy," she said with a sigh. "I'll keep pointing this out until you believe me, but I'm not exactly poor, you know."

"Poor people never think they're poor," he joked.

"I beg to differ," she said, "A poor person probably always knows they're poor! Especially when rich people like you are around to remind them of it."

"I only remind YOU that you're poor," he said. "To say that to someone else would be in bad taste."

She shook her head and stood up. He got up on his knees and hugged her around the waist, his head level with her middle. "You are a perfecter present, really." He kissed her stomach and then stood up to join her.

Damn, she should tell him. Shouldn't she tell him? He was being so incredible, and he thought she was perfecter, so wouldn't he think her news as being perfectest? What was she thinking! That wasn't even a word!

Hermione stared at him for a long time, so long that he said, "Do I have something on my face?"

"I want to give you a perfectest present, I do," she said.

"Dammit, Hermione, I would never have given you that box if I knew you would want to 'one up it'. I will probably give you a lot during our marriage and do a lot for you, and visa versa. I won't ever expect payment in kind, and I know you won't either, so it's getting old. It's fine. I love you," he said. He didn't care about presents.

He took her hand and started down the stairs. She stayed rooted in her spot. She said, "Well, there is one thing…"

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	39. Chapter 39

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**Chapter 39 –**

"Well, there is one thing," she started.

She pulled on his arm, to urge him back upstairs. Just then, Bill walked up the stairs and said, "Mum and Dad told me to tell you both that it's too hot and stuffy up here, so come downstairs. We're all outside, though it looks as if it might rain." He started back downstairs, and added, "Is anything wrong?"

"No, we will be down shortly, I just have to tell Draco something," Hermione said. Draco looked from Hermione to Bill and then back to Hermione.

Bill looked like he didn't believe her. He asked once more, "And you are sure there's nothing wrong?"

"Nothing," she said. She pulled on Draco's arm, took him to Ginny's old room, and shut the door. She picked up the box he gave her and placed it on the dresser. He sat down on the bed.

"Spill it, Granger. What in the world are you trying to say to me?"

Draco knew what he wanted her to say to him. He wanted her to say she was pregnant. Truth be told, he did not want that in the beginning. Not at all. So when she took the pregnancy test last night, (Gee, was it really just last night? It felt like a month ago), he was being truthful when he said he wasn't ready to share her.

Then, when he went downstairs with his mum, to wait for the results, he had _a change of heart. _He really did. It was almost an epiphany! He had _a sudden awakening_. He wanted a baby. More specific, he wanted a baby with her. For so long he felt he was _a life not loved_, and then she came along and loved him, for no reason other than the fact that she just did! The more he thought of it, the more he wanted it! He didn't just want it he needed it! A baby. He wanted her to tell him they were having a baby. His selfish phase was over and done. She proved to him that he was very special and worthy of her, and just like _a very special election_, she chose him above all others, and so why not have a baby together? It felt right.

Sure, she was cunning enough to try to fool him last night with news that she wasn't pregnant. Her reasoning could be vast and complex, but he knew she would have had a good reason to hide the information from him. Therefore, if she didn't tell him yet, he would wait, maybe for a more private moment. Yes, that was probably her reason for waiting. She probably wanted to wait until they were in _a familiar place_, like Red Rose Cottage, even though the Burrow was _a familiar place, too_. He hadn't been married to her for long, just two weeks, but he knew her so well. He felt they had lived a whole lifetime together, and they had a whole lifetime yet to come. This past week was just _a week in the life _of their marriage. He would let her wait to tell him. He wanted a baby, but he would wait.

"Listen, Granger," he finally said, as he pulled her to sit on the bed beside him. "If you aren't sure you want to tell me this news, there's no pressure. It can wait, really it can."

"It's so hot up here," she finally said.

Without another word, he took her hand and disapparated them to the hillside by the Quidditch pitch. He sat down on the grass, and pulled her down to sit beside him. She leaned over and laid her head on his thigh. He started to rub her back.

She thought he knew. He must know. He looked apprehensive, even scared. He said he wasn't ready for a baby. He continued to stroke her hair and back, occasionally rubbing little circles on her back. His touch was so familiar, so warm and inviting, encouraging and comforting. She didn't know why she didn't tell him her news. If she didn't tell him right now, she would probably always regret it. She hated having regrets. She was full of regrets and sometimes she felt like they would come and swallow her whole.

She regretted that she didn't have a baby with Ron. No, that wasn't true, not really, because she didn't want a baby with Ron, but he wanted it, and that was the main reason they never married. She liked to pretend she was the wounded party, and that he cheated on her without provocation, and he never once offered her a ring, but the truth was that he had always told her as soon as she would agree to have kids he would marry her. She never agreed. She loved Ron so much, but she never felt as if she belonged with him. That was her biggest regret, _a regret to belong_ to the man she thought she would spend her life with.

Now, here she was, with a man who was her complete opposite. Funny, everyone here at the Burrow said they were _an unlikely pair_, and even now, they probably thought they were _an unlikely pair, again_. They shouldn't have rushed into things. 'Too late now,' she thought. She might as well tell him, and hope for the best.

"Did you fall asleep, Granger?" he asked.

He gave her a gentle kiss, almost like the type of kiss a person gave someone when they gave them _a kiss goodnight_, a simple, pure kiss, full of love and protection. He said, "Funny, I just realized something, you're _a girl named Granger_, aren't you?" He laughed. It was somewhat funny that he always called her Granger. She wasn't even a Granger anymore. She was a Granger Malfoy. Their baby could even be called Granger Malfoy. He didn't care. His father would, but he would face that problem **when and if** she ever told him. That was probably why she didn't tell him yet, because she didn't want to share the news with everyone else right away, her parents, his parents, the residents of the Burrow.

He knew he shouldn't start daydreaming about a baby that might not be. Her news could be something else entirely. It could be that she got a better job, that she bought a new car, or that she was going to start straightening her hair. He was probably getting excited over nothing.

"No, I'm awake. I am tired, though," she answered.

She was tired, but also terribly anxious. She was upset and distressed. She had _a restless distress_. Should she tell him when it was so early? As Draco played with the bracelet on her wrist, which she literally just realized was back on there, she came to a decision. She would wait to tell him.

She had Dr. Carlisle recheck the results when she had him examine her for the diabetes and they were the same she got at Malfoy Manor. She was pregnant. It was too early to be 100 percent sure, but magical test could usually detect a pregnancy as early as 48 hours. She was scheduled for another test Tuesday, as well as scheduled to see a special Healer who specialized in Muggle-born illnesses. She should wait for that test before she told him.

Yes, after the discovery of her illness, and their whirlwind romance, rushed wedding, and then this crazy weekend, she most definitely should wait. Wait for things to calm down a bit, before she shared the news. She felt a mixed bag of emotions about the news anyway. Her feelings ran the gamut from happy to sad, with every emotion in between. She felt a_rrogant and ignorant_ at the same time, because she was scared. She was scared of what was to come. She was a Healer, and knew all about what was going to happen, but since it was happening to her, she was plain scared.

Admitting that she was pregnant aloud would make it real, and she wasn't ready for it to be real. She wasn't ready to give him this 'perfecter' present. Draco told her yesterday that he wasn't ready, but then again, he was one of the biggest liars on the face of this planet. She looked up at him as he stared intently out over the pitch, and she saw he had a brooding look. She knew he knew. She also knew he was happy about the news. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. He was ready. He wanted this. She should tell him.

She moved her head off his leg to lie back on the grass, on her back. She pointed up at the clouds and said, "That looks just like the cloud we saw last weekend, the one that looked like Snape's nose, remember?"

He lay down beside her, and pointed to another one and said, "That one looks like Potter's scar."

"That might be real lightening, because the sky is overcast, and it smells like rain," she said.

"You can't smell rain," he laughed.

Draco thought that the moment had passed. She wasn't going to tell him, because it probably wasn't true. It wasn't what she was going to say. She wanted to talk about the clouds, apparently. He fell in love in a day, got married the next day, and was married for two weeks, so to add a pregnancy to that was absurd.

Maybe it was bad news. Leave it to her to give him bad news on such a perfect day. That's why she was scared to tell him. Maybe the news was that she WAS pregnant, but she viewed THAT as bad news. Maybe she didn't want to be pregnant yet. Maybe she didn't want to be pregnant by him. Maybe he was a fool! Of course, she wanted to be pregnant by him, just not yet. Perhaps it was more than she could handle, on top of their crazy two weeks, and even crazier weekend. Crazier was a word, wasn't it? He should tell her that at first he really thought "perfecter" was a word, but she would undoubtedly call him an idiot.

That was it! She didn't want to be pregnant by him in case their baby inherited his idiot gene!

Of course, there was her illness to consider. She hadn't even had time to react to that. Would the pregnancy affect that? He knew that the diabetes upset her more than she let on. He should have been a better husband, a better man. He should have taken care of things and used a contraception charm. He knew that he should have done that the first night they made love. He contemplated using precautions that night, but dammit, he actually wanted her to become pregnant. He did. He secretly hoped that she would become pregnant and that would tie her to him, and she would have to start a relationship with him. He was a bastard. Well, the joke was on him, because she married him anyway! He was not just a bastard, but also a selfish one to boot, because he never once considered what she wanted, or what would be best for her.

She sat back up and held up her hand. "I think I just felt a raindrop."

He sat up also, and looked up at the dark sky, and the rolling clouds. She did smell the rain, didn't she? "We should get back to the Burrow," he said, "before the rain really starts."

She bit down on her lip again, and said, "I need to tell you something before we go back, but I just don't know where to begin."

She was ready to tell him. Secretly, she had wanted this all along. When they had sex that first time, after only being together for a day, she wanted to get pregnant. There, the truth was out! She wasn't one who usually slept around. Rephrase that. She never slept around. She only slept with someone when she was in love or cared for someone deeply, and she loved him immediately, and within perhaps two hours of meeting up with him again, she knew she wanted to have his child and spend the rest of her life with him. She was smart; after all, she was a Healer. She certainly knew how people got pregnant and she knew how to prevent it. She didn't want to get pregnant as a means to trap him; she wanted to get pregnant to have HIS baby. End of story. She didn't just want a baby, but she wanted one with him. She never wanted one with anyone else.

What did that say about her? How would her 'surrogate family', the Weasleys, react to the news? Would they be happy about it? Would they be supportive? They all knew that Ron wanted to settle down with her and have babies. They all knew she didn't want that.

What about Ginny and Harry? Oh, Lord, she just now thought of them. They had been married for three years, and as far as she knew, they had been trying to get pregnant since the honeymoon, and they didn't have a baby yet. What would they think? Would they be silently jealous, while openly supportive? Would they hide their pain while openly showing their joy? Would they feel she was undeserving? Was she? She would never want to cause anyone else pain at the price of her own happiness. She wanted to cry again, but she knew that Draco was sick of all her tears. Instead, she looked into his eyes and held his hand as the rain began to fall. He stood them up and brushed back her wet hair, which had fallen in her face.

"Just tell me. Begin at the beginning," he urged.

She looked on the verge of tears. He swore if she cried one more time this weekend he would scream! He looked up at the clouds once more, as a roar of thunder blasted all around them.

"Draco, I'm pregnant."

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	40. Chapter 40

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**Chapter 40 –**

"Draco, I'm pregnant."

He expected her to say that. He wanted her to say that. He anticipated her saying that. However, when she finally got around to saying it, he was shocked. What? What did she say?

Another clap of thunder went off around them, and the rain was now drenching them from head to toe, but he stood there, mouth open, and he exhaled the breath he didn't even know he was holding, and said, "What? Would you repeat that?"

"It took every ounce of courage I could muster to say it the first time, so please, don't make me say it again," she said. A flash of lightning lit up the dark stormy afternoon sky. Thunder sounded right afterwards.

Draco said, "Please, say it just once more, and look me straight in the eye when you say it, and try to look happy about it this time. I want this moment to be embedded in my mind for all time, and I want to remember it differently."

She frowned and said, "Too bad, you get what you get. I said it, and now you need to tell me what you think." Another bolt of lightning flashed and a loud clap of thunder roared overhead, followed by yet another streak of light. "Draco, we are going to be killed."

"Please, this is my perfecter present, isn't it? Can't I have it my way? Say it again, with more feeling and conviction this time. Hold my hand," he said, taking her hand.

She pulled her hand from his and said, "You are a prat! I'm pregnant, now tell me, is that welcomed news or not?" She could barely see from the rain in her eyes.

"I want to look back on this fondly, and you are making this increasingly hard," he said without humor.

"Draco Malfoy, you heard me the first time, so I will not repeat it! Just tell me what you think!" she pleaded.

"Say it again, and then I will," he said. Lightning flashed so close, followed just a second later by more thunder that they both jumped. He put his arms around her.

"You are really irritating, you know that, don't you?" she asked.

"Bloody, stinking hell, Granger, just say it again!" he said with ire.

Lightning. Thunder. Visions of impending death flashed through her mind. Fine, if he would let them seek shelter, she would say it again.

She placed her hands on his cheeks and said, "Draco Malfoy, my prat of a husband, although it's too early to tell with 100 percent accuracy, the test I took at the Manor, and then the one Dr. Carlisle performed, show that I am probably pregnant, although like I said, it's early, and a lot can happen this early, but I thought you should know." That was such a long sentence; she had to take a breath. "We are pregnant," she amended. "I know that chances are that the test is irrefutable, but I just felt hesitant telling you so early, because there are so many things that can go wrong the first trimester, like miscarriage, or an ectopic pregnancy, but I feel fairly certain that the positive results shown in the test are conclusive."

Another flash of light appeared in the sky, followed by a loud chorus of thunder, which was a loud rumbling noise that shook the earth beneath their feet. It was as if heaven said, "Enough already, she's pregnant, go inside!"

"Can we go inside now?" she asked.

"Could you say it a bit less technical, and a bit more endearing?" he asked. "You don't always have use such big words, just to make yourself sound like the smartest person in the room."

"We're on a hill," she stated, "not in a room!"

"Fine, you don't always have to sound like the smartest person on the hill," he said.

(Lightning, Lightning, Loud Thunder!)

"NO! I mean we're on a hill; hence, we are exposed to the likelihood of imminent death due to lightning. In case those words are too big for you, let me say it this way, we are going to die out here, Malfoy!"

"Oh, right, sorry," he said. He took her hand and instead of apparating with her back to the house, they ran down the hill toward the front porch, where George, Charlie and Harry sat, to wait out the summer storm. Everyone else must have been in the house.

As they ran up the steps, shaking the water from their eyes, Charlie said, "Get caught in the rain, did you?"

"What makes you say that, brother?" George asked. "Maybe they just took a shower and forgot to take off their clothes." Hermione gave both men a look of consternation, and began to wring out her hair. George said, "I hate it when she looks at us like that. She looks like she is channeling McGonagall when she does." Hermione walked over to him and slapped his arm.

Harry walked up to her with his wand and dried her clothes, leaving her hair wet. Draco said, "What about me?"

"What about 'no'," Harry replied. "You have a wand, put it to good use. You should already have thought of that, dried your wife, and not have me to do it."

"She can dry herself, and it's not as if I need you to save the day, Potter," Draco said as he dried his clothing. "For Merlin's sake, it's not like the rain was sent upon us by Voldemort!"

Hermione laughed at that. Harry did have a hero complex sometimes. She _could_ have dried herself.

"So why were you two out in the rain?" Charlie asked.

Draco sat up on the porch railing, the eaves to the porch made an awning that prevented the rain from drenching him again, and he said, "Granger had some news to tell me."

Hermione turned to look at him suddenly and shook her head no.

"Yes you did," Draco said.

She gave him a stern look and he shuddered and said, "Mercy, she does look like McGonagall when she does that."

She came up between his legs and mouthed to him, "Don't tell yet!"

"Why?" he asked aloud.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked, curious.

Hermione turned quickly and said, "Nothing. Draco's just playing around."

"Speaking of playing," Charlie said, "Anyone up for some wizard's chess?"

Draco jumped down from the railing and said, "Since I'm not wanted out here, I'll play."

George said, "I take winners."

The brothers headed into the house, and Hermione grabbed Draco's arm once more and said, "Please, don't tell anyone yet. Please."

He smiled and leaned over and kissed her mouth gently. He nodded as she bit her lip and said, "Don't worry, my sweet little Muggle Muffin, I won't tell anyone until you're ready. I'm just glad you finally told me."

Harry Potter stood on the porch, wondering if he had his invisibility cloak on and wasn't aware of the fact, because they didn't seem to be aware that he was standing right there, listening to their entire conversation. After everyone left Harry and Hermione on the porch, Harry sat down on the swing, started pushing it back and forth with his legs, and said, "Care to join me?"

"Stop and let me get on," she requested.

"No, get on like you did when we were young," he urged. When they were young, Harry and Ron would never slow the swing down for her to get on. They would continue to swing, sometimes very high, so she would have to back her legs into the swing, and hope the seat caught her just right, so she landed on her bum. One time the board hit her legs so hard that she fell forward and hurt herself very badly. After that, they never teased her like that again.

"No, you know what happened the last time," she said.

"Come on, you aren't afraid, are you?" he asked. He pushed on the floor of the porch with his legs, the swing going back and forth rather briskly.

"It's not that I'm afraid, I just want you to at least slow down," she admitted. She thought to herself, 'because I have a baby to think of,' but she couldn't say that aloud.

"Granger is a coward!" Harry said with glee. "I never thought I'd see the day that you didn't rise to a challenge. Chicken!"

"You are a git, Harry Potter," Hermione snapped.

She turned her back to him and began to back toward the swing. He secretly slowed the swing down some, and when he saw the backs of her legs hit the smooth, worn wood of the swing, he slowed it almost to a stop. She plopped down and the swing bobbed lightly up and down. "You didn't have to stop it altogether," she said. "I'm not a chicken, you know."

Ignoring her statement, he asked, "So, what did Draco want to tell us? You know, the thing you don't want anyone to know yet. It isn't about your health is it?" He was slightly worried. He knew he had a history of hiding things, so he could clearly tell when someone else was hiding something. In addition, he knew this woman as well as he knew the back of his own hand.

She took a deep breath and turned slightly to look at him, the swing still gliding effortlessly, at least on her part, since her legs where folded in front of her. She said, "Nice try, Potter, but a husband and wife reserve the right to have secrets, you know."

He nodded and said, "I'll concede to that." He continued to swing them and he said, "Remember when we were young and you, Ron and I would sit out here on a rainy, summer afternoon, and we would play exploding snaps, or just talk. Remember?"

"I remember you and Ron playing exploding snaps, and I usually read a book," she said.

"Usually," he agreed. "But sometimes we would all just talk. I loved it here when I was young. It was an escape from the Dursleys and the threat of Voldemort, and I was allowed to feel just like a normal person. Even if we were only here a week, or sometimes the whole summer, being here offered me the only peace I knew growing up. I associated this place with home. I still do, even though Ginny and I have our own house. I associate all the good times I had growing up with you, Ron, Ginny, this house, and the Weasleys."

Harry didn't usually reminisce about the past, after all, it wasn't particularly pleasant for him, but when he did, at times like this, it made Hermione love him that much more.

She said, "Unlike you, I had a wonderful childhood, but I loved it here, too, and I still do. I loved you, Ron, and this family almost as much as my own family. Sometimes when I was young, and my parents were so busy, I was extremely lonely. I think that's why I escaped with books. It was impossible to be lonely here."

He chuckled and said, "Exactly." He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. He said, "You're more than my best friend, Hermione. You're the sister I never had. I used to pretend, or imagine if you will, that you were really my sister. I would imagine all sorts of scenarios where we would find out that we were actually siblings. Like maybe the Grangers adopted you, or maybe they decided to adopt me, or sometimes I would imagine that the Weasleys adopted us both."

That admission made her sad. To lighten the mood, she said, "I don't think my parents would have appreciated that last one. They might not have let me go so easily."

"Well, that last one was usually part of a daydream where something happened to them, and you had to come live here," he said with a laugh.

"That's more of a nightmare than a daydream," she said, removing her hand from his. She slapped his arm and said, "And to think, my parents have always been so fond of you, and here you have been dreaming of their demise all these years."

"Not dreaming, really, more like hoping," he said with a straight face.

She frowned and said, "I don't like you anymore."

"It's a joke, Hermione. Draco's right, you have no sense of humor," he replied. He took her hand again, under a slight protest. He placed it to his mouth and kissed the top.

"I still don't like you fantasying about killing off my parents, even in jest," she said seriously.

"Oh, I don't dream that anymore," he said. "Now I dream about killing off your husband." He smiled to show that he was still joking. "I do love you like a sister, though."

She placed her head on his shoulder, as he slowed the swing to a stop. He placed his arm around her, and bent to kiss the top of her still wet hair.

"I always loved you like a brother. I admit I had fantasies, too, that the Dursleys would just give you to me. Like a present."

He laughed loudly and removed his arm. "Your childhood fantasies had me given to you as a present?"

"Yes," she smiled, "my own little brother, whom I could teach things to, and read to, and hug and kiss whenever I wanted," she said.

"I'm only ten months younger than you, so I hardly think I would need you to read to me," he retorted. "Although, I have to admit, if you didn't read to me in school, I would never have passed one subject."

"Well, it was just a fantasy, like you said," she responded.

"Yes, it was nice to imagine things like that sometimes," he said back.

"Yes it was," she agreed.

"So, if you think of me as a brother, why won't you confide in me that you're pregnant?" he asked.

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	41. Chapter 41

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**Chapter 41 –**

She turned to look at him in shock. "Harry Potter, how did you know?" she beseeched with her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

"I didn't know, but you just now confirmed it," he admitted. "So, it's true?"

She stood from the swing and said, "Damn you, Harry Potter! I can't believe I was outsmarted by the likes of you!"

"Gee, thanks," he laughed. "Sit back down." He patted the seat beside him. "I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to, I just don't know why you felt you couldn't tell me, your best friend, your pseudo brother."

She didn't want to sit back down. For some reason, she wanted to hit him, so she kept her distance. She sat on the steps and let her legs stretch out before her. The feel of the cool rain on her warm skin felt good. Harry stood up and went to stand behind her. He knocked on the top of her head. She looked up at him.

"Are you going to answer me?"

"You know everything, apparently, you tell me why I didn't want to tell you," she said sarcastically.

Draco lost the game with Charlie and he went to the front door to find Hermione. He saw her sitting on the front steps. Harry was standing behind her. He saw Harry sit down next to her and try to put his arm around her. She knocked it off. 'That's my girl', Draco thought.

He started to open the screen door when he heard Harry say, "I think you didn't want to tell me you were pregnant because you're selfish."

Draco thought that was a rude comment, but more than that, he wondered how Harry knew they were pregnant. He decided to eavesdrop. It was Draco's experience that twice as much could be learned from eavesdropping than from asking someone something outright.

Harry again put his arm around her, and this time she let him. "So why the secrets? You and I don't usually have secrets from one another."

"I just think it is way too early to tell anyone. I would only be two weeks pregnant and I still need to take another test. The first two might be wrong," she said.

"You took two?" Harry asked. "You always did like tests."

Hermione looked over at him and giggled. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around her legs, and placed her cheek on her knees. He rubbed her back and leaned over her.

"Really, why not tell me?" he asked.

"You and Ginny are trying to have a baby, aren't you?" she asked. She turned her face the other direction, as her head continued to rest on her knees.

"So?"

"I didn't want to throw it in your face," she said.

"You always did do everything better than anyone else, I would have understood," he joked. She turned to look at him and she pushed his arm. She sat up.

"Tell me how you really feel," she asked hesitantly.

"I am really, really happy. I mean that. I feel no jealousy, anger, shock, or dismay. Well, that's a slight lie," he said.

"See, I knew it," she said. She stood up. The rain had stopped, and though the ground was muddy, she stepped off the porch. Harry followed. Draco strained to hear them now.

"I mean I am slightly dismayed that you would think I wouldn't be happy with the news," he said. "The whole family will be overjoyed. We know that Ron always wanted children with you, but that's because he wanted to control you and keep you at bay. You knew that, so you made the right decision not to have a child with him." Harry put his arms around her waist and brought her in for a hug.

"I hate to say this, almost more than I hate spinach, and you know I hate spinach," Harry started, "but I think Malfoy will be a good father. His father was a Death Eater, but if nothing else, he loved his son. Draco loves you. You have no reason to worry and nothing to fear."

Draco walked outside and said, "I swear Potter, if she believes you when she wouldn't believe me earlier, I just might scream."

Hermione turned in Harry's arms to look at Draco. She held out her hand. He took her outstretched hand, came over, and hugged her from behind, while Harry continued to hug her from the front. It was a strange situation, made even stranger when George walked out to the porch and said, "That's sick, get a room you three."

They all disentangled, and Harry said, "I wasn't even touching Malfoy."

"Yes you were, and you loved it, Potter," Draco said with a fake leer.

Hermione leaned over to Harry and said, "Can we keep it just between us right now. Not even tell Ginny? I haven't even told my parents yet."

He nodded and smiled. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. He walked up to Draco and stood toe to toe with him. Both men stared at each other, for several long minutes. Harry then walked away. He and George walked back inside.

"What was that?" Hermione asked.

"The bloody fool was using Legilimency on me! Trying to threaten me if I ever hurt you or the kid," he said in outrage.

"Why didn't you block him with Occlumency?" Hermione asked with a laugh.

"I decided to let him get on with it. He had to play the big bad protector one last time. He did it because he loves you, and still hates me a bit, I fear. He can threaten me, I'm not worried. I'll never hurt you."

"Because you love me too much," she answered.

"Hell no, I'll never hurt you because Potter would kill me. Don't tell him this, but he scares me sometimes. The man did defeat Voldemort after all," Draco joked.

He took her hand and led her back up to the porch. They walked to the other end, where there was a wicker loveseat. He sat down and pulled her beside him. He put his arm around her.

"So, Granger, how does it feel to be married?" he asked.

"Truthfully?" she asked. "It is the best thing ever. I think I'll do better at this than I have ever done at anything. It feels right, as if it was supposed to be. I was not only meant to be married, but I was meant to be married to you, although you must admit, it all happened very fast."

Draco said, "It was love at first sight. I mean, I wanted you for a while, but it wasn't love in the beginning. I just wanted to get to know you, but seeing you sitting in that chapel, well, it was love. Pure and simple, it was love. I always admired you from a far, but once we were together, I felt this amazing connection to you. We are attached, from here," he touched his chest, "to here," and he touched her chest.

"When did you know you wanted to marry me?" she asked.

"That first moment in the chapel, when I first fell in love with you. I saw you and me up at that pulpit someday, and that's the honest truth," he said. "I knew I had to have you, get close to you, make you see that I was a good man, and not the spoiled brat, bully, you grew up with."

"You know people think we're crazy to have married so quickly," she reminded him and then laughed.

He turned her so that she was now on his lap, with her legs out to the side. He nuzzled his nose in her neck, and then he whispered in her ears, "What do we care what the masses think?"

"I feel like I'm living out my fantasy," she whispered as her hand skimmed down his face, to rest on his chest. She placed her cheek on his shoulder. She sighed and said, "This is perfect. This is contentment defined." He placed a hand on her still flat stomach.

"No, this is contentment defined," he corrected. "Our family. Our life together."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and said, "Sap."

He said, "Worry wart."

"Idiot," she said.

"Cry baby," he said.

"Man of my dreams," she said.

"Talk about being a sap," he said.

"I know, I'm a sap, a worry wart, a cry baby, a prude, and all the other things you've called me this weekend. I guess I'm even a know-it-all," she said. "But do you know what I am first and foremost?" she asked.

"A Muggle Muffin?" he asked.

"No, you irritating git," she said. "I'm your wife, first and foremost. I never once in my life thought I would want to be defined that way, and if you tell a soul, I will pull all your hair out, strand by strand, but there you are, it's the truth. I am Mrs. Draco Malfoy, no Granger, so no need for a hyphen or not."

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," he said. "Do you know what I am first and foremost?"

"I would say my husband, but you're probably thinking of something irritating to say, or sarcastic, or crude, so I'll just say, no, I don't know what you are first and foremost. Tell me," she waned.

"I am first and foremost the man who loves Hermione Granger Malfoy, and I insist there be no hyphen," he announced.

"To being an unlikely pair," she said. She kissed his cheek.

"To being an unlikely pair, again," he answered. He put his hand on her cheek, put his lips softly upon hers, and kissed her as if he were kissing her for the first time ever. When they parted, he placed his forehead next to hers and said, "Is our story done?"

"Well, we are having a baby, so I'm sure there'll be at least one more chapter in this story," she answered. She stood up and pulled him up by his arms. She said, "Let's go in and tell the family our news."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes, and then we can go to my folks and tell them, and then go to the Manor, and tell your parents, but after that, let's go home. It's been the longest weekend in my life," she said.

"I agree," he said. He took her hand and they went inside, and they shared their happy news. For an unlikely pair, they ended up being pretty damn likely after all.

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	42. Chapter 42

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**Chapter 42 – Epilogue:**

"Why did I buy him a mobile phone if he isn't going to answer it?" Hermione said to herself in frustration. She closed her phone and placed it back in her pocket. She waddled (she was that big, so she waddled), through the piles of boxes and books, cursing her husband for the fifth time that day.

The first time she rued the day she married him was when she woke up this morning and he was already gone. He knew she wanted help setting up her library in the new house today! Hermione told him that last night! Yet, he was gone.

The second time she rued the day she married him was when she was taking a shower, and she looked down at her massive stomach. She actually said, "I hate you, Draco Malfoy."

The third time was when her back started hurting. Not that, that was his fault, really, but she still blamed him. She was using magic to move around most of the boxes, but she still needed good old-fashion muscle to put things right, move them back around, and arrange them just so, and her 'muscle' was missing.

The fourth time was when she tried to call him the first time to tell him that she had now been up and about for four hours, and where the hell was he?

Now was the fifth.

She knew it was a mistake to move to the new house so close to the due date of their baby, but Draco insisted. He said he didn't want his child to come home to the little cottage and think it had been born into poverty. His parents let them 'borrow' (actually, they gave them) two house elves to help with the move, but also to live with them permanently. Hermione wasn't thrilled with that thought. The new house really was a blessing. They were very lucky to find this big house. It was very close to her parents, a large Victoria house, completely refurbished, with two front parlors, (Draco called them 'his' and 'hers',) a library, a den, a dining room, a kitchen, a breakfast room, a maids quarters, (for the elves!) and five bedrooms. Best of all, four wonderful bathrooms. The first thing Draco did when they moved in was to go to each bathroom and flush each toilet.

He gave her the library, saying, "Why would I need a library?" and he took the finished third floor for his "playroom". She gave him a black leather couch for a house warming present. He was so happy and indebted one would have thought she gave him a lifesaving kidney or something. He decorated the top floor just like her father's basement den. She wanted to laugh. He even did it in the same colors.

She tried his phone again. It just rang. It didn't even go to 'voice mail'. She already sent an owl. She couldn't call around on the floo, because they weren't hooked up yet. She could owl his parents to ask if they knew where he was, but she would rather not. While her relationship with them had become much warmer over the last few months, she still tried to avoid them whenever she could. She only dealt with them when Draco was around. Hermione needed Draco as a buffer, a sort of 'Lucius and Narcissa' protector. Like a sneeze guard around a salad bar. Draco was Hermione's sneeze guard when it came to dealing with his parents.

She really needed him to help her unpack! She had a lot of books, and it was tiring trying to alphabetize them by herself. Oh, whom was she kidding? He probably thought Q came before P. Usually, Hermione wasn't so anal about her books, but she knew she needed to become more organized with a baby on the way.

Their baby was due in just three weeks. They elected not to know the sex. She really didn't care and she had a feeling Draco didn't either. They just wanted a healthy baby. Hermione had many complications during the pregnancy, due to her diabetes, but Draco had been so wonderful and helpful.

Maybe she should call Harry and report Draco missing. She didn't really think he was, but Harry didn't have to know that. He could send out the Aurors to find him. Maybe Harry would come over and help her? No, Draco would have a fit if he knew she called Harry for help.

Where was he? What if she were in labour!

She did have a persistent pain in her lower back, but she was probably just overdoing things. The pain was slightly disturbing, though. Surely, it wasn't labour. It was a small, albeit, continual pain. Hermione stopped moving books with her wand and thought about things for a moment. The pain started last night. It continued, at irregular intervals, since then. Now, it was more consistent. Oh no. No, please.

Hermione was in labour. She was having back pain, she was a Healer, and she knew some women only had back pain in the beginning stages of labour. With her phone clutched tightly in her hand, she walked up to the nursery where she kept her bag packed, and tried his phone again, though there was still no answer. She really hated him! Well, she really loved him, but she hated that he wouldn't answer his phone. What should she do? She stood there, pondering her options when the unthinkable happened. Her water broke and went all over the new hardwood floors. She stood there, wet and scared, and decided to call Harry. If Draco became angry because she called Harry that would be his problem. She was about to hit speed dial, (Harry was number two), when the phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and it was Draco.

She answered and said, "Draco, come home."

"Have you been calling me, wifey-poo?" he asked, ignoring her previous order to 'come home'.

"Draco!" she said frantically, "I have been trying to call you all day! Where have you been?" She wanted to tell him that she tried to call him all day because she was in labour, and while she really might have been in labour all day, she originally started calling him to help her unpack. She was in labour now, so she tried to finish her sentence with that very thing, but he interrupted.

"I had a lot of errands to do. Things to buy, people to see." He laughed. "Do you like the color blue?"

"What?" she asked. She looked down at the mess on the floor. She would clean it up, but she half hoped it would ruin the floors and he would have to replace them.

"Blue, do you like blue? I'm here at the car dealership. I'm buying you a blue car. I won't tell you what kind, but I think you'll like it," he boasted.

"Draco, stop talking and listen to me, I have been calling you all day," she began.

Before she could say another word he interrupted again, "I know, I saw that, but the thing is, I really have been busy and I know you just called me to help with your blasted library, and seriously Hermione, that's what those big eared creatures called elves are for, just have them do it," he said.

She wanted to cry.

"That is why I called you at first, but now…," she started to explain again, when once again he interrupted.

"I went to the store earlier and got some strawberries. They looked really nice, and they were buy one get one free," he said. "Maybe tonight we can have some with some sparkling apple juice, and christen the new library. What do you say?" he asked.

"Draco, I don't care about strawberries, please, focus for a moment, and listen to me," she stated.

"I thought you liked strawberries," he said.

"Oh God Help ME!" she said to herself, but aloud. "Draco Malfoy, shut up for a moment," she said.

"There's no need to be rude," he said. "By the way, will you check the icebox and see if we need milk? I think the milk I had earlier was stale. I'll wait on the line until you come back." He smiled at the car salesman and said to him, "It will just be a moment, she'll be right back. I think she'll like the blue car." He waited a moment longer and then said, "Granger, are you there?"

No answer.

"Hermione?" he asked.

Still no answer.

"Did you hang up on me?" he asked. When she didn't answer, he assumed she did. "That was rude," Draco said. He looked at the car salesman and said, "Since she was rude and hung up on me, I think I'll get her the green car instead."

Hermione hung up on Draco, and then called Harry. She had started to cry. She knew that Draco hated when she cried anyway, and Harry was always sympathetic when she cried. She was still standing in the water when he answered.

"Harry Potter," he said.

"Harry, I'm in labour and Draco's being a prat," she said in a rush.

"I'll be right there."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Draco's phone rang as he was in the market getting milk. He almost didn't answer, but decided he should.

"Hello?" Draco said.

"Draco, it's Harry," he said.

"I know who you are. I programmed your name to come up on the phone. Well, actually, I programmed it to say 'Scarhead', but that's you. I put 'wifey poo' for Hermione, Dad number two for Hermione's dad, Mum number two for Hermione's mum, and my parents refuse to get a phone, but if they ever do, I'll enter them as Mother and Father. That isn't very interesting, is it?" Draco said, as he realized he was rambling.

Harry hung up.

"Potter?" Draco asked. "Are you there? Did you hang up on me, too? Why is everyone so rude these days?"

Draco arrived home three hours later. It was after seven pm. He gave the groceries to the little elves and asked them where Mrs. Malfoy was. The big-eared buggers didn't know. He went all around the downstairs, calling her name. He went to her library. It wasn't even set up yet and that was her whole goal today. He would come back down and set it right for her. She was probably upstairs resting.

He went up the stairs, calling her name. "Granger? I have a surprise for you! I need you go come downstairs, and then outside to the drive!" He looked in their room and bathroom. No wife. He frowned.

He went right to the nursery, where he proceeded to slip and fall in what appeared to be water all over the new, hard wood floors. He examined the liquid on his hands as he lay on his back, in the water, and that was when he saw a note written to him on the ceiling, of all places.

It read: "_**Draco Malfoy you are a prat. I tried to call you all day. I have been in labour ALL DAY! When you finally called me back, all you wanted to talk about was cars and strawberries. You would not even let me speak. By the time you read this your child will probably be born, and may even be walking and talking, with no help from you. PS/ My water broke and that is what you slipped in, you arse. Love, Hermione." **_

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Draco ran to the information desk at St. Mungo's, but before he could inquire about his wife, his father ran up to him.

"Where in the blazes have you been?" Lucius bellowed.

"I am so sorry!" Draco said. "I just needed a day to myself," he tried to explain.

"Yes, well, while you were off being by yourself, your wife went into labour! She already had the baby!" Lucius scolded.

"But Hermione's not due for three more weeks!' Draco said.

"Well the baby is part Granger, so it has a mind of its own apparently," Lucius returned.

"Are they okay?" Draco asked anxiously.

"Do you care?" Lucius asked.

"Father! You know I do!" Draco yelled.

"Then go see for yourself! Your wife won't let anyone see the child until you see it!" Lucius said. "I have been a grandfather for almost an hour, and I can't even see my own grandchild."

As Lucius and Draco ran down the hall, Draco asked, "Is it a boy or girl?"

"Good question! She won't tell us that either. She said that you have to know first. Only bloody Potter knows," Lucius said as they got on the lifts.

"Harry knows?" Draco asked.

"Yes, Son, because that stupid man went in the delivery room with her, because she said, and I quote, 'Draco is out buying strawberries,' end quote," Lucius said.

Draco began to bang his head upon the wall of the lift. Lucius decided to leave him alone. Maybe it would knock some sense into him. When they exited the lifts, Lucius took his son's arm. He said, "Draco, I hate being so hard on you, but you're a man now, not a boy. You need to learn to take care of things. You have a wife and a child that needs you. You have to put their needs before your own. A day to yourself is no longer in the cards, is that understood?"

"Yes, Father," Draco said. He wanted to tell his old man that if he wanted Draco to act like an adult, Lucius should treat him like one, but he knew his father had a point.

Lucius held out his hand and said, "By the way, congratulations on becoming a father."

Draco shook his hand and said, "Congratulations on becoming a grandfather."

They walked to the lobby, and Draco almost felt ashamed. Everyone was there for her, her parents, his parents, all of the Weasleys, even Ron and Pansy, who had gotten remarried just last month. All of them were there, but him.

Harry walked out of a room across the hall and said, "Oh, Malfoy, Hermione's in there," and he held open the door.

Draco started in the room and held out his hand. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry knocked Draco's hand away, which shocked Draco. Then, Harry grabbed the other man in a tight embrace and said, "That's what friends are for, Malfoy."

Draco patted Harry's back, and as they parted, Draco said, "Well, then, thanks for being a good friend to Hermione."

"You stupid git, I meant I was being your friend." Harry patted his arm twice and held the door open for him. Draco walked inside.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Hermione sat up in the bed, holding a bald little baby wrapped in a white blanket, next to her chest. She smiled at Draco and said, "I'm sorry about the nasty note on the ceiling. I tried to accio my last Justin poster to put up there with it, just for spite, but I didn't have time. Look at the beautiful baby we had."

He sat down on the bed and touched the baby's little round head with his finger. "It's beautiful. It's bald. It's so much better than strawberries." Hermione laughed and he smiled. "May I hold it?" he asked.

"But of course. You are the father," she said with a yawn.

He took the little baby in his arms and said, "Its little arm is the size of my thumb!"

"Ah huh," she said with another yawn. She lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes.

"Granger, I'm sorry I wasn't there. I was being selfish. I didn't want to help you with your library today, and I wanted one last day of freedom, a day to myself, before fatherhood was thrust upon me. I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I can't believe I missed the birth."

"It all happened so fast," she said, opening her eyes. "To tell you the truth, I was calling all day because I wanted you to help me with the library. It's true I was in labour as well, but I was in denial. I'm a terrible Healer. I can't even tell when I'm in labour." She put her hand on his arm and said, "No more apologies. You're here now."

Draco again said, "No hair at all on its little head, I swear."

"That's probably a good sign, because I've seen your baby pictures, and you were bald until age two, and I was born with a mop of dark curls," she said. "So maybe it will have your hair someday."

"I heard you wouldn't let anyone see it yet," he said. He swayed the baby in his arms back and forth, as he sat beside her on the bed. "You didn't even tell them the gender. My father is fit to be tied."

"Well, I thought that you should see it first, and know the gender first. I'm sorry that Harry had to know before you. Are you angry?" she asked. He leaned over and kissed her lips sweetly. She said, "Don't squish the baby."

He laughed as he sat back up and said, "Seriously, I'm glad old Scarhead was there." He looked back down at the baby and said, "It's pretty. Just like you. It has such a round head."

"It must get that from your side of the family," she said and laughed.

"Your mummy is so funny," Draco said in a high-pitched voice to the baby.

Hermione said, "I want to sleep now. You take the baby to the lobby and show it off, okay?" She shut her eyes again.

He ignored her for a while and continued to hold the little one. He looked back over to Hermione and said, "Well, little baby, Mummy is tired, and I guess she deserves to sleep. You would think she just gave birth or something." He stood up from the bed, but leaned back over and kissed her forehead. "Thank You, Granger. This is the most 'perfecter' present ever."

She opened her eyes again and said, "Don't you mean 'perfectest'?"

"Now, Granger, you know that's not a word. Let's not start baby off on the wrong foot. We don't want it to go around saying made up words like 'perfectest' or 'artful'." That was the word she used to describe his lying all those months ago on their first weekend together, and he thought it was a 'made up' word back then.

Hermione sighed, said, "I love you so much, Draco," and she closed her eyes again, and this time, she really went to sleep.

He went to sit in a chair by the bed and said, "You could never love me as much as I love you, Hermione. You are both the perfectest presents a man could ever have."

He continued to rock the baby back and forth, knowing that he would have to share it with the rest of the family soon. That was when he realized something. He didn't even know the sex yet! "Hey, little one, is your name to be Cygnus or Aquilla? I don't even know if you're a boy or a girl yet. How dare you not reveal that to me." He unwrapped the little receiving blanket, and lifted the little gown. "I am sorry, son or daughter, but your mummy is asleep so this is the one way for me to find out. The embarrassment won't last long." He undid the little nappy and took a quick look. "Ah, I thought so. I thought you looked like a…"

The End

* * *

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

_A/N I: I am laughing hysterically here! I have to live up to my title of 'queen of the cliffhangers'. Oh, wait; this is the last chapter, isn't it? How will I ever reveal the gender to you all? I wonder. Oh, well, Thanks!_

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

_A/N II: Fine, stop complaining. It is a boy, Cygnus Abraxas Malfoy. So there._

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

_Thanks to my beta for this story…Oliverwoodgirl!!_


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